


The Remnant Fleet

by Geonn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alien Sex, Aliens, Clones, F/F, F/M, Far Future, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Holography, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Science Fiction, Soldiers, Space Pirates, Space Stations, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the edge of the Sol system, just beyond the Kuiper Belt, Humanity's first foray into the Great Beyond is a space station called The Quay. Originally planned as a springboard for future missions, the station has now become home to a variety of alien races. When a den of pirates, smugglers, and thieves is destroyed, every race must come together to protect the killers' target: a piece of space debris that could carry DNA from the dawn of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a series here on AO3 called The Remnant Fleet. This story shares a large amount of backstory, plot, characters, etc, with those stories but they are not necessary reading. If there are any continuity issues, the information from this version comes first.

**Prologue**  
The Quay became visible three weeks into their journey, their slow crawl to the outer edge of the solar system ending with an ever-growing diamond in the distance. Min Paget turned on the console in her quarters and scanned the distant stars and tumbling debris of space to see if she could find it among all the other marvels in the sky. She had spent their travel time reading books about the original explorers. Brave men and women who set out from Europe to find the new world. Their ocean was made of stars now, and their destination was far stranger than those first sailors could ever have imagined.

Two centuries earlier, the first Humans left Earth with enough material to create a self-sufficient room in space. That was basically all it was for the first few years: one room with five engineers. Ships propelled by sunsails followed soon after, a fleet of paper boats on the solar winds in the wake of those exploring the new frontier. Those brave men and women accepted a one-way trip to create a safe harbor for future generations to live and work. 

With their dedication, the Quay soon became large enough to support a full science team. Technology on Earth continued apace, and soon the ships became faster and the equipment they sent helped evolve the Quay into more than just a simple station. It had become a home. Humans continued to build and expand their farthest-flung colony but it still had yet to fulfill its original purpose. It was supposed to be a waystation between Earth and Out There, a place where future missions could be planned and launched. It was the leapfrog approach, saving money by eliminating the need to escape Earth’s atmosphere and cross the seventy-five hundred kilometers of empty solar system before they could even begin to explore. It was just supposed to be a stepping stone.

Then the aliens arrived.

Min hooked her microphone over her ear. The device would pick up vibrations in her skull to record her voice, so there was no need for an external microphone. “Humanity built the Quay as a launching pad to see what the universe had to offer,” she recited. “We had no idea it would bring the universe to us.”

Her transport altered its heading to line up with the Quay’s current position. Min watched as the station rotated counterclockwise. She parted her lips to describe it as it filled her screen, but words failed her. It was magnificent, the single greatest habitat Humanity had ever constructed. The Quay was three kilometers from one end to the other, with seven hundred permanent residents. When the station was finally completed its engineers covered their patchwork product with a seamless skin that gave it a smooth, ovoid shape. 

Two long arms extended out from either end of the central hub, then curled back toward one another to form a wide harbor for visiting ships. To some, these arms looked like giant pincers. Min thought they resembled a hand outstretched in greeting. “I suppose,” she said to her recorder, “that it all depends on why you’re coming to the Quay.”

As they approached the docks, she enhanced her screen to see what other ships were present. The station was always home to a variety of species, but she was more interested in those who were only passing through. Those who lived aboard the station were under the purview of the Aphelion Project and had therefore become homogenized, to a degree. She wanted to see aliens who were truly alien, who hadn’t given up their unique identities in order to fit in with the crew from Earth. 

There was a Karezza warship, its banded-together hull bristling with weapons. There were several Balanquin bracijera ships, extremely maneuverable one-man vessels that looked like darts. The majority of ships docked at the Quay, however, were of Paisian and Acapsian design. They were the most technologically advanced species they’d come across, and they were always passing through the empty space that comprised the Quay’s “front yard.”

The ship Min was aboard turned to begin docking procedures. She switched to cameras on the bow and looked out into the open universe. Beyond the Kuiper Belt and the Oort cloud, the safe walls of their home system, the first few hundred light years of Everywhere Else. She was so awed by the sight that she nearly forgot to speak, holding her mouth open in anticipation of the first word before she remembered she was recording.

“People at home, even those outside of our sprawling cities, think we know what the universe looks like. We see stars through an ever-thickening veil that obscures the finer details. It makes it easy for them to believe everything revolves around us. But the truth is that nighttime is our only chance to peek at this unimaginable universe, this massive... thing... that shouldn’t allow us to exist. We live in a tiny pocket of a miracle and we’ve done our best to ignore it for twelve hours out of every day. But we can’t ignore it any longer.”

Half of the docks were equipped to receive cargo while the rest were civilian access. She switched to one of the side cameras so she could see the flurry of people on spacewalks as they moved along the side of massive ships using magnetic boots. It gave perspective to the whole station and made her realize just how huge the entire thing was. On the approach, with only the image on the screen to gauge, it had looked barely bigger than a battleship. But with those insect-like people in plain view she could see it was so much more. 

And yet the surrounding emptiness still made it look small. She felt suddenly very puny indeed. 

The transport shuddered as it docked, and she gathered her bags to disembark. She wore a white uniform banded with blue at the cuffs and collar to designate her position as a civilian journalist. Her black-and-brown hair just barely reached the shoulders of her new jacket, and she tugged on the bodice as she waited for the all-clear. Atmosphere had to be balanced between the ship and station, and that still took a little time. But finally the airlock hissed and the door rolled back into its recess to allow her through.

The airlock shared the station’s ovoid shape. Small speakers embedded in the walls emitted soft music: a capriccio that she only vaguely recognized. Something from the past fifty years and inoffensive enough to be played for potential aliens who had differing musical tastes. She’d once heard a Paisian operetta and nearly went deaf from the experience. She hefted her bag onto one shoulder and stepped forward. Her passage activated a holographic greeting, a slightly-smaller-than-real-life woman with dark skin and a bindi between her eyebrows. She wore the uniform of an Aphelion officer and smiled at a fixed point in front of her eyes.

“Welcome aboard the Quay. I hope your journey was a pleasant one. I am the current station commander, Admiral Indira Reshef. I am a Human from Earth, and I am the highest ranking member of the Aphelion Project. If you would like a brief introduction to the station, please walk with me and I shall provide a commentary on the way to your personal quarters. If you have been here before or do not wish to continue this recording, simply disrupt the holographic image with your hand.”

Min reached out and tapped the holo-woman’s shoulder. The image shuddered and collapsed on itself. The last part of the Admiral’s speech was disembodied.

“We hope you enjoy your time onboard our station. If there is anything we can do for you, do not hesitate to ask. It is our pleasure to serve you.”

Min walked to the railing and looked down into the food pavilion. So many species, so many different variations on a theme. Humanity had spent generations looking at the stars and wondered if life existed and, if so, what it looked like. Two centuries ago they discovered the answer: they were absolutely not alone. They were part of a much larger community. And their new neighbors were more similar and so much more different than anyone could ever have imagined. She had a lot of work ahead of her if she wanted to do a comprehensive story for the people back home. She smiled and headed toward her quarters. She could hardly wait to begin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**  
 _Bauwerji Crow  
Balanquin  
Executive Officer of the Quay, pilot_  
When she dreamed, she was back there again. Always in different places amid the vast scrub plain and the weather depended on her mood. Sometimes the sun was beating down relentlessly on her, other times a gentle breeze tempted her to undo the scarf around the lower part of her face to let it soothe her weather-cracked skin. She came to depend on the climate of her subconscious to truly understand what was going on in her life.

Tonight it was rain. One of the devastating and necessary maelstroms that made life in the vastness possible. Soaking through her clothes was the work of an instant. She covered her skin as well as she could, her eyes protected by thick black goggles. Waves of black and gray clouds marched from the far horizon and spread out overhead before spilling down. Cracked dirt was quickly covered with a roiling sea, and the fat droplets exploded through the surface like darts. 

Behind her was the ridge, a meandering column of stone breaking out of the terrain like a broken spine. The cliffs were pockmarked with caves and tunnels which her people used as bases of operation. They could never stay in one place for long for fear of the Catarahh finding them. Though the weather was always changing, there was one constant in the dream. She was always searching. For a new place to call home, for signs that an enemy convoy was headed their way, for food, there was never a time when she wasn’t searching for something.

A crack of thunder overhead caused a physical reaction and she was woken by her arm impacting the side of her bed. She rolled onto her stomach, hands flat against the cushion as the last shreds of the dream faded. She threw back her sheet and scooted to the edge of the platform. Her quarters like all the quarters on the Quay were originally designed for Human habitation, so the bed was a slab on the floor. The section in which she now lived had been redesigned for Balanquin residents. Her bed was an elevated platform anchored to the ceiling, higher ground from which she could see the rest of her quarters.

She descended the ladder and dropped to the floor. She went through her health regimen, the same routine she learned at the Institute and kept up through all the years of invasion and occupation. Now that she was among so many other races she had incorporated a few of their exercises if they worked. When she finished she stood up and stretched, muscles burning, and dressed in the standard uniform of Quay personnel: a sleeveless white undershirt, an unzipped slate-gray tunic with the Aphelion logo on the left breast, and black trousers with a wide brown belt. The logo contained code that revealed her name and rank when scanned: Bauwerji Crow, Executive Officer (PR). 

The parenthetical qualifier stood for “political refugee.” Once she had been one of the highest-ranked students in her class. She was set to become a decorated officer in an era of peace. Their neighboring continent attacked the Institute at her graduation, and her country was thrown into its first conflict in over two centuries. Their highest-ranking military officials were killed in the initial attack. She, along with the other graduates, had no choice but to retreat into the lowlands around their great cities. The Catarahh came in like a wave of flame and effectively took control in a matter of weeks.

So began her life as a rebel and terrorist. She continued to wear her uniform as a symbol of what she was fighting for. By the end of the conflict the material had been patched and mended so many times she worried that a stiff breeze might cause the entire thing to fall apart. Now she wore the expertly-tailored Aphelion uniform while the battered and beaten uniform of her people was folded safely in the drawer of her wardrobe. She’d worn it for ten years in defense of her country and now if she ever went back she would be arrested and executed. 

Once her uniform was in place, she checked her hair. The right side of her head was shaved except for four braids representing the women in her family who had preceded her into the military. Her grandmothers, her mother, and her aunt but she was the only one who served during wartime. Her mother died of a heart attack while sitting in her office. Her aunt had died in the opening shots of the first war their people had fought in over two centuries.

She touched the stubble between each row of braids and then ran her finger over the tightly twisted hair. Her complexion was a dusky shade of red that was just a touch lighter than her hair. Much of the color had faded since she took up residency on the Quay. It was one of the hazards of living aboard a space station far from any star. She tightened the braids, touched two fingers to her reflection, and reset her lights so they would stay off instead of coming on at the usual time.

The Quay never really stopped for the night. Balanquin had longer days than Humans, and the Paisian never slept. No matter how early she woke up or how late she went to bed, the habitat ring always felt silent and abandoned. The rooms were arranged in a honeycomb pattern, each set of rooms snugly tucked between the ones on either side. She took a lift from the habitat levels to the common area, once again marveling at the craftsmanship of the station. Humans had built it one piece at a time, ferrying pieces out on ships with solar sails. 

First there was a capsule just large enough for two people. Then they added a node on either side. The first crew were scientists and engineers who ended up being a construction crew. Soon the central hub was large enough that the crew could begin constructing pieces themselves. That first station - an actual habitat with rooms, amenities, and artificial gravity - still existed in the center of the now-massive space. It was called the Heart of the Quay, and it had a near-holy draw to the Humans who served now.

She bypassed the commercial area of the station and went directly to Command. Work stations created a wide semi-circle that faced the viewing screens along the far wall. The shape of the stations mimicked the station itself. The Quay was a half-moon anchored just beyond what Humans called the Kuiper Belt, Humanity’s first outpost to the greater universe. 

A Ladronis yeoman named Kirill Tizon noted her arrival in Command. He tapped a key to download the night’s report to a handheld tablet. She walked down the central aisle between the two sets of work stations and he stepped quickly to catch up with her. She took her headset from her pocket and hooked it over her right ear, moving the speaker down to the corner of her mouth.

“Good morning, ma’am.”

“Anything to report?”

“Debris in the eighth sector drifted too close to the larboard wing of the station. We sent out some bracers to knock it back. We have eight arrivals scheduled today, including one that should be here in the next few minutes. Looks like it’s from Pelorum. Must have known you were coming on duty.”

Bauwerji smiled. “Perhaps so. Thank you, Mr. Tizon.”

“Ma’am.”

He gave her the tablet and returned to his station. She tapped the screen and read some of the more minor reports. A fight outside of a dining establishment, a request for maintenance at Bay 12, a request for a quarterly update from the Aphelion Project, and other routine items that hadn’t been worth the yeoman’s time to share but would have to be dealt with during her shift. She pushed up her sleeve and docked the tablet to the personal computing device cuff on her wrist. When she was finished she left the tablet on a convenient work station and approached the front of the room.

The video screens loomed ahead of her. Cameras attached to the inner curve of the Quay gave her a 180-degree view of space directly in front of them. The detail was crisp enough for her to see a scattering of small debris floating in the ether, eternally spinning and pirouetting in a dance that would never end. The entire section of space was littered with the stuff. It was the flotsam and jetsam of the great battle which had firmly united all races in the Aphelion Project once and for all. They were a harbor on the edge of a warzone, and it was the jobs of the people around her to guide their visitors safely through the minefield. 

An alarm sounded in her ear and she tapped it to open a channel. “We read your signal, _Jetlucani_. You have been cleared to approach on trajectory nine-nine-one-four-one-two. Helmsman Pahleis will guide you safely in.” She turned to her left and spotted the Acapsian man at his station. “Say hello to our new arrivals, Helmsman Pahleis.”

Pahleis said hello in the tongue of the Balanquin people.

Bauwerji smiled and clasped her hands behind her back. “You’re in safe hands with him, gentlemen. I am XO Bauwerji Crow. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Quay.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Admiral Indira Reshef  
Human  
Commander of the Quay_  
Indira Reshef started her day by receiving the best blow job of someone’s life. 

She woke horny and knew she wouldn’t get the chance to take the edge off any time soon, so she attached the Sensuite to her temple, plugged the bud into her ear and slipped the screen down over her eyes. The preprogrammed file came to life and obliterated the real world of her bedroom. Now she was lying in a luxurious apartment in an Earth city. From what she could see out the window, she thought it was somewhere Asian, but those details weren’t important. She was seeing from the point of view of the man in the bed. His body was familiar to her from repeated viewings. When she brought her hands up, his hands came up. When she brushed her palms over his abs, she felt his buff physic instead of her own.

The Sensuite was originally designed as an educational and mental health device. When the first group set out for the Quay, it was understood that it would be a one-way trip. They would never set foot on their home planet again. The first Sensuite was developed so people on Earth could record their experiences - hiking in the Grand Canyon, playing fetch with a dog, sailing in the Gulf of Mexico - and the brave men and women stranded on the edge of the solar system could live vicariously through the recorded video. In exchange, the scientists and engineers aboard the Quay recorded their day-to-day lives so people back home could get a feel for what life was like “out on the distant edge.”

Of course, it wasn’t long before the tech was hijacked for pornography. 

Indira was of the opinion that the porn videos were just as important as the nature experiences. The Quay was no longer cut off from Earth, but even with regular trip back and a crew the size of a small city and constant new arrivals, it could get very lonely serving aboard the station. As the station’s commander and superior to half the people aboard, she couldn’t very well enter into any casual relationships. The Sensuite was a life saver.

And then there was the fact that she had proclivities that she couldn’t explore in the physical realm. She moved her proxy’s hand down to his cock and began stroking it. His skin was a few shades darker than hers, but she could explain that away in her mind as a product of living under a real sun. She stroked him to erection and bit her lip as her hand ghosted over her own crotch. She had seen the video before, but every time was a new experience. Technology had gotten so much better since those first static Sensuites.

Once she was hard, the video was queued to open the bedroom door. A lanky blonde man in a pair of boxer briefs stepped inside, smiled, and prowled to the foot of her bed. Indira bit her bottom lip as he put his hands on the edge of the mattress, locking eyes with her as he slid up her legs. 

“Looks like someone has a surprise for me...”

Indira dropped her hand to her thigh as the man guided his boyfriend’s cock into her mouth. Sometimes she pretended they were married, other times they were just friends who enjoyed each other’s company. Either way, the sensations transmitted through the temple mount always did the trick for her. She lifted her hips off the bed as if responding to an actual touch, sliding her hand back up to her breast and tweaking the nipple as the blonde man - she called him Reva even though he wasn’t Indian - moved his hand to cup her balls.

The device was interactive and tuned with her own system, gauging heart rate, breathing, and respiration to deduce when she was close to orgasm. At the optimal moment it would jump the video to her proxy’s orgasm, and she could watch herself ejaculate. She wet two fingers with her tongue and touched them to her clit as Reva circled the tip of her cock with her tongue. That sight was always dangerous for her, and she grunted as she watched the white come burst free. Reva smiled up at her as he closed his mouth around her tip and swallowed as much as he could.

The video faded out, gradually returning her to the reality of her dark quarters. She removed the headset and temple mount, running a hand over her thigh half-expecting to find come spilled there. The Sensuite was so vivid that several people called them ‘guided hallucinations.’ She was as sweaty and shaky as if she’d actually had sex, and she went to the en suite to take a quick shower before she dressed for the day. 

A monitor in her shower stall provided a rundown of the night’s activity. She saw that the _Mae fy hofrenfad yn llawn llyswennod_ had docked just after midnight. They were usually well-stocked with new smut. She would have to find the time to head down to see if there was something worth picking up. It would have to be something truly arousing to break Reva out of the rotation.

As she dressed, she inquired aloud who was currently serving as officer in charge. The computer responded in an asexual and vaguely accented voice that was actually a blend of Human, Balanquin, Paisian and Karezza speakers of both genders. “XO Bauwerji Crow assumed her station at 0643.”

So she had only been on duty for a half hour, which meant Indira felt comfortable leaving her in charge for another half hour while she went to breakfast. There were a handful of officers she would have felt the need to babysit, but Bauwerji was savvy enough to run the entire station by herself even during a crisis event. Indira sent her ETA and current heading to the computer so the crew would know where to find her if necessary, then went in search of sustenance. 

_Cicerone Drayton  
Acapsian  
Captain (self-appointed)_  
There were worse places to be docked for a week, but Cicero was at a loss to name any at the moment. The city looked promising from the air. Red light districts galore, flashing sentry lights on every corner, and security permanently stationed at the docks to search people as they came and went. It gave off the stink of a thieves’ paradise but she quickly discovered that the law officials were not only very visible, they were the least corrupt constables she’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. Two of her men tried to bribe the first one they saw and were quickly led away in shackles. 

There was gambling. Strictly regulated. There was thieving to be had in the form of pickpocketing and confidence games, but the reward was too small in the former and she didn’t have enough time to dedicate to the latter. Her entire crew wanted to leave as soon as they realized how straight-edge the city was, but Cicero had agreed to meet a contact there. So all they could do was get drunk - those of them what were legal age according to the local laws, that is - and wait for the blasted client to show up.

Cicero started frequenting a local bar. Companionship could be legally bought or sold, and she paid for a couple of her men to spend the night with the most beautiful women available for renting. She herself didn’t partake. She wasn’t morally opposed to the practice. Some of her best lovers had been on a by-the-hour basis. She just wanted to keep alert. 

After a week of waiting, she discovered her alertness was beginning to suffer. That was the excuse she gave for why the man was able to approach her table and sit down before she aimed her pistol at him under the table. He swept off his cap and placed it on the table between them, hoisted his bag up, and let it fall heavily to the uneven wooden surface. He was Karezza, wide in the jowl and small in the chin. His eyes were wide and wet, his nose crooked and bent, and the thin lips of his mouth constantly rubbed against each other when he wasn’t speaking. His thick brown hair was center-parted and stood up in crazy spikes due to the removal of his hat.

He leaned toward her, widening his eyes even further in hope. “Chi-cho-run?”

“Siss-rone,” she corrected. “Most just call me Cicero. You’ll call me Captain Drayton when you explain why you’ve made me sit on this blasted rock for almost seven nights. People in my line of work prefer moving fast, y’understand? Sitting still doesn’t come natural to us. I’m tempted to turn you down on principle.”

“Please. Don’t do that. Please. I misunderstood my time that travels.”

Cicero rolled her eyes. Someone else who barely spoke the language. She didn’t understand the people who wouldn’t get translator implants. A little twist of the language centers of the brain and suddenly they could interact with anyone of any species. Sure as hell beat trying to learn chelseet or English, and it meant not forcing people who had the implant to listen to broken attempts to self-translate.

“You have a job for us?” 

He opened the bag and reached both hands inside. “Man have died for this. Many. I killed the last four who hold it and take it from them.”

“You killed?”

He met her gaze and she had to admit she felt a chill. “It was only option available to me.” He withdrew a metal container, pushed the bag aside, and put the box down on the table. “This is stone. It travel very far. Very, very far.” He rested his hand reverently on top of the box. “Millions of years, you understand? Before you, me, here, this, anyone. This stone.” He jabbed the box with his finger. “It come from origin.”

“Origin of what?” She was looking at the box, wishing he’d just open it already.

The man swept his hand around them. “This. Everything. Balanquin, Karezza, Ladronis, all. Every. Origin of us.”

Cicero leaned closer. “You’re talking about a cenancestor.” He stared blankly at her, so she clarified. “Something that can prove every species came from one source.”

He nodded quickly and jabbed the box with his finger. “Yes! Last common connection. Everything goes back to this. This stone.”

“How?”

“Stone contains pieces. Ah, uh, the... th-the...” He gestured in frustration. “The, the, the...”

“Genetics?”

“I don’t... maybe? Look... this part of bigger. Bigger thing out there...” He gestured at the exit. “Long time ago. Then thing explode. Boom, pieces go everywhere. Piece hit here, hit there, some go far and some not so much. Some land on Karezz. Some on Pelorum or Acapsia or Earth or Pais. Life grows. Becomes Human or Karezza or Acapsian. Slightly different. Same building blocks.”

“Panspermia,” Cicero said quietly. “Can I see the rock?”

He covered the box with both hands. “Understand why this important?”

She hesitated. “It would be a remarkable scientific discovery. Proof that every race in this sector came from the same ancestor would be monumental.”

“No one cares. Minor interesting thing. But this powerful. This dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Stone has bits. Pieces. Things tell you what people are. Know what people are, know how to destroy them. Get rid of them, you have building pieces of whole new thing.”

Cicero leaned back in her chair and stared at the box. “That’s insane.”

“That truth.”

“You think someone would use this rock to eradicate all of our species? Billions and billions of people across a half dozen systems. And then they’ll use the genetics from the rock to build their own perfect people to replace us?” She laughed and shook her head. “You’re a lunatic. And you just wasted an entire week of my crew’s time.”

“Please. I need help. I need protection, and crew of size should be good, uh, good camouflage. I need to get this stone to somewhere safe. Please, Cicerone. Men have killed to get this. I have killed to prevent them from doing so. But eventually someone will come and they will take it from me. I cannot allow that to happen.”

“Find someone else. We’ve wasted enough time on you, old man.” She saluted him with three fingers and walked out of the bar. As soon as she was in the clear she opened a channel to the ship. “Round everyone up and bring them home. This whole trip is a bust.”

“Sorry to hear that, Captain. Shall I begin plotting our next course?”

Cicero smiled as she started down the street. “Yeah. Take us to the Quay. There’s someone there I’ve been dying to catch up with.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Two**  
 _Cordwainer Littlefoot  
Human  
Physician_  
The first doctors aboard the Quay had very little opportunity to test their training. They were veterans of the early Earth-orbit space stations, so zero-g triage was nothing new to them. Scrapes, bruises, strains, the rare broken bone, it was all old hat to them. But everything changed once the Paisian made contact. The Paisian were the first truly alien species Humanity had ever encountered. Each “person” was comprised of an entire host of small creatures who joined together when necessary to form an individual. After their first encounter with Humans, they began assuming Human shapes for their interactions.

Current station Medical Chief Cordwainer Littlefoot was the latest in a long line of Quay physicians tasked with treating people from a half dozen different worlds. A lifesaving treatment for a Balanquin could prove fatal to an Acapsian, and basically everything that made the Karezza healthy would lead to a terminal diagnosis in every other race they’d encountered. Human and Balanquin doctors couldn’t even operate on a Karezza without risking contamination.

Cordwainer trained at an elite medical school on Earth which trained its physicians in the anatomy of all known races. Some were only tangentially covered - the Ladronis respectfully refused medical intervention from anyone outside their race - and it was generally considered impossible for anyone to become an expert in every race. The position of Medical Chief aboard the Quay was an incredibly prestigious posting, and Cordwainer won it by virtue of being an expert in the care and treatment of eight different species.

The infirmary was a three-tiered facility on the starboard wing of the station. At the moment they had five guests: two Humans, a Karezza, and two Acapsian. The Karezza was admitted at the same time as the human, and Cordwainer suspected they had attempted a physical tryst without the proper preparation. While ze understood the passion of a moment, ze really wished hir patients would show a bit more restraint and wisdom in their pairings.

Cordwainer was a member of the Lakota tribe, slight of frame, and fleet of foot. Hir graying hair was kept short, which only emphasized the fact hir head was slightly too large for hir body. Though ze was a member of the Aphelion Project, ze was allowed to wear a traditional uniform that allowed hir more freedom of movement. Hir shawl bore the insignia of the project, but it featured billowing sleeves and wrapped around her torso rather than zipping closed. 

The Quay was built by Humans to serve as a research outpost as well as a launching pad for further exploration of the wider universe. That all changed when the first Paisian vessel made contact. The Quay had been under construction for seventy years, and they finally had proof that the billions of dollars spent on the project wasn’t going to waste. The commander of the station welcomed their alien visitors to the station, establishing first contact and a friendly relationship with their new neighbors before Earth even knew the aliens had arrived.

Earth’s response to the commander’s original message about the Paisian: “Under no circumstances are you to make contact with the unknown race. We would be defenseless, and the Aphelion Project is too precious to risk losing after all the work we’ve put into it. The station has been equipped with defensive measures in the event of an asteroid on a collision course. You have permission to use these defensively against the hostiles. Repeat: you are not to make contact with these people.”

The mission commander sent back a very simple response: “Oops.”

The damage, such as it was, had been done. The Paisian were a peaceful and scientific race, and it quickly became clear to everyone on Earth that making contact had been the right choice. Their new friends served to introduce Humanity to the other alien races in the neighborhood. The Quay was conveniently located in an otherwise empty expanse between populated systems. Ships running low on supplies or in need of repairs soon began arriving by the score.

Humans quickly accepted the Quay’s new purpose as an interstellar harbor. They provided a safe place to resupply, rest, or get repaired. In return, they got an up-close look at alien technology and had multiple opportunities for first-contact scenarios on their home turf. The Paisian and Karezza offered their assistance in expanding the Quay, and soon it had grown into the massive station it was today. 

Cordwainer spent the morning checking on hir patient’s progress and made a note that the interspecies lovers could be discharged that afternoon. Ze also made a note to whichever doctor released them should have a conversation about safety when it came to lovemaking. The ban on interspecies relationships had been lifted decades earlier, but there was a certain amount of common sense required when engaging in the intimate arts with someone from another species.

Once hir rounds were finished, Cordwainer retired to hir office and opened a screen. They had received messages from three ships scheduled to arrive that afternoon asking for medical supplies. Ze would have someone prepare the necessary items so the captains wouldn’t have to wait longer than necessary for what they needed.

One wall of Cordwainer’s office was a curved window looking out over the esplanade. Ze moved her chair closer and peered down at the variety of species milling about in the wide-open space. On the first tier, just below the infirmary, there were bazaars selling all sorts of cultural items. Each species taking part in the Aphelion Project was represented by at least two stores, but most planets funded five or six. Cordwainer hirself wore a Balanquin meditation bracelet and one of their necklaces. Ze loved Balanquin culture; their handcrafted jewelry reminded hir of the kind hir ancestors made. It was hir dream to visit Pelorum one day to see if it reminded hir of the reservations ze’d only seen in Sensuite vids.

On the tier below the shops was a ring of eateries. It was a splendid medley of smells and sights. Ze had eaten at all of them at least once. Well, all of them except for the Paisian pavilion. Their food wasn’t fit for mortal consumption. But each had at least one meal that ze found absolutely splendid. Ladronis food was almost a religious experience, as was the case with so many things the Ladronis did. Occasionally ze would open her office windows just a crack to get a whiff of the aromas wafting up from the squadron of grills below.

The lowest tier was also the widest, and it contained the entertainment theatres. Ze enjoyed going down there to see the old holos, the movies from a hundred years ago, the ancient tales on which so many modern scripts were based. Ze didn’t like the Sensuites for stories. A Sensuite put the viewer in the story and made them characters. That wasn’t what ze went to the films for. Escapism was the whole point. Being trapped in the tale defeated the whole purpose. But ze was glad the Sensuites were so popular; it meant she often got an entire theater to hirself, and that was just fine.

An alarm sounded, and Cordwainer rolled hir eyes. Money and travel arrangements weren’t an issue for hir. Ze lived at the most frequented port in the galaxy and could easily arrange passage on any number of ships. No, the thing keeping hir from a vacation was the simple fact that the Quay needed hir.

Cordwainer picked up her med kit and hurried out into the main room. A doctor and nurse had already responded to the call, but ze approached anyway to see what needed to be done. The patient was Acapsian, seizing violently as the doctors tried to hold him down.

“Step back, please,” ze said calmly. 

The doctor moved aside to give hir room. Cordwainer pressed two fingers against the man’s chest and closed hir eyes. Ze timed the double rhythm of the man’s heart and noted the difference. Ze opened her kit, removed a stabilizer, and placed it on his chest with one metal disc on each pectoral. Ze disabled the left disc and gripped the metal bar bridging the two sides. Once a normal rhythm had been detected, ze activated the second disc. The man’s body went rigid almost instantly and then dropped back to the cushion. A moment later the display indicated a normal rhythm.

Ze smiled, a tender smile that made hir look elfin and harmless. “There we are. Just a simple synchronicity issue. Happens sometimes with this disease. Keep an eye on his readings and let me know if they spike again.”

“Yes, Dr. Littlefoot.”

On hir way back to the office, ze paused to look down at the esplanade. Perhaps when ze got off-duty, there would be time to see a film. Ze would have to make a note to see what was playing.

#

 _Selina Rogers  
Acapsian  
Ambassador_  
When she wasn’t ensnared in meetings between governments and corporations, Selina Rogers spent as much time as possible in the food pavilion. She chose a table at any of the establishments which struck her fancy. Some days she appreciated the spices of a Balanquin dish, and other days she liked the texture of Karezza cuisine. She would buy something small to savor for thirty minutes or an hour while she observed the other customers.

Today she had a _bauzhent_ cake from an Irikoan bakery. Three dish consisted of three spongy cakes covered with a light drizzle of sticky frosting. A Karezza woman across the room was eating a dish full of red powder by wetting her fingers, dipping it into the dish, and then smearing the mixture across her bottom lip. Selina wet her own lip as she watched, her attention drawn to the alien woman’s mouth as her tongue darted out to taste her meal.

Another patron cut off a piece of meat, speared it on his fork, and brought it up to his mouth. It was dripping with sauce, with dribbled over his bottom lip as he chewed. Selina took a deep breath and released it through pursed lips, her eyebrow arched as she scanned the room for another open display of mastication. Movement at the stairs caught her eye and she smiled when she recognized Bauwerji Crow walking into the pavilion. 

Until recently, the Balanquin officer had worn the animal hide uniform of her planet’s air force. When it officially became part of the Aphelion Project, Bauwerji assumed the official uniform like any other officer. It civilized her a bit, but the woman still carried herself like a warrior. She resisted the military’s restriction on haircuts to maintain her unique braids. Selina was glad of that; she would have hated to see Bauwerji give up such an interesting piece of her personality in the name of conformity.

Bauwerji sensed she was being watched and turned to meet Selina’s gaze. Selina smiled and motioned for the XO to join her. Bauwerji’s stride slowed as she considered the invitation and then finally changed course. She pulled out the seat across from Selina and folded herself into it. Her skin and hair were complimentary shades of red, but her cheeks and the flat bridge of her nose turned a darker hue as she looked around the room.

“A bit early for your perversions, is it not?”

Selina smiled to reveal her teeth. “What perversions? There’s nothing scandalous about watching people eat. Look...” She gestured around the room. “No one is ashamed to be seen here.”

“Perhaps if they knew Acapsian proclivities the way I do...”

“It’s not a secret.”

Bauwerji sighed and Selina chuckled at her prudishness. The Acapsian people had much in common with their partners in the Aphelion Project. The main differences were all physical, with their scaled skin and pale yellow eyes, their twin hearts, and... well, their tails often made things difficult in a station designed for Humans and their kind. 

The other difference, the private difference, was in their sexuality. The first Acapsian diplomats had been horrified when the Human delegation invited them to dinner. In Acapsian society, eating was something done in private with people you loved. The idea of a communal meal with strangers was offensive. They didn’t wish to cause an incident, so they carefully explored Human society so there wouldn’t be further incidents.

They quickly discovered how lucky they had been. If they had gone with tradition and invited the Human ambassadors to make love, their entire partnership could have been stillborn. Though it was impossible for them to understand how Humans - and later, Balanquin and Karezza and practically every other race they’d encountered - could publicize eating while sexual liaisons were private matters conducted behind closed doors.

Selina liked to take advantage of the foibles. If her fellow residents of the Quay saw no reason to hide their dining, then what harm was there in taking a thrill from it? Bauwerji only knew about the fetish because Selina revealed the truth to her after several business dinners. She confessed she was sexually aroused by the sight of Bauwerji eating in an attempt to get the scrappy young officer into her bed. It had failed, much to Selina’s dismay, but their friendship stayed intact.

“What do you think these people would say if they knew why you were such a frequent guest to these establishments?” Bauwerji asked.

Selina said, “I would offer to make amends to them. I would invite them to have sex with me.”

Bauwerji couldn’t stop herself from smiling at that. “Somehow I feel that apology would be self-serving.”

“The best kinds are, my dear.” She leaned back in her seat and looked past Bauwerji at a Human licking powder off his fingers. He closed his lips around his thumb and sucked, finally releasing the digit when it was clean and glistening. Selina shuddered and sighed blissfully. “I find it odd you don’t react to eating the same way I do. There is something distinctly sexual in the act.”

“Perhaps.” Bauwerji looked at a neighboring table and quickly averted her gaze. 

Selina laughed again. “There is nothing wrong with enjoying the world around you. These people aren’t harmed by being watched. Take in the visuals and save them to enjoy yourself later. I know I will.”

Bauwerji’s skin darkened again. 

“So shy...”

“Hush,” Bauwerji said. “I didn’t come down here to be teased.”

Selina said, “Oh! You came here to eat. Shall I order you something?”

Bauwerji glared at her and Selina giggled. 

“I apologize. But I do love watching you masticate, my dear.”

“I’ll be taking my food back to Command, thank you.” She stood up. “The contractors you brought in to clear the debris in sector seven have worked out very well. Your assistance was very much appreciated.”

“I am glad I could help.”

Bauwerji hesitated, then reached down and brushed the tip of her middle finger through the frosting on Selina’s food. She licked it off with a quick flicker of her tongue, and Selina laughed throatily at the sight. “Such a tease, Officer Crow.”

Bauwerji ignored her and walked off. Selina curled her lips into a smile and watched her go. She doubted the little Balanquin warrior would ever give in and join Selina in her bed, but that didn’t make their game any less fun. She cut off another piece of her food and placed it carefully on her tongue, chewing it before she took the time to see if anyone was watching her. She caught a Human just as he looked away, and she smiled to herself.

Lunch was always the most glorious time of day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Three**  
 _Jocia Wison  
Ladronis  
Dignitary_  
From the time they were children, the Ladronis Weavers of Song had been taught that evil was in discord and disharmony. They worshipped the Great Chorus, the belief that the universe was built upon music and melody. Music was a vital part of every race they’d encountered, which only strengthened their beliefs. The Ladronis rarely traveled from their home system, but visitors would often come to them. Those visitors brought music from their homelands. Some of it was highly objectionable, some was little more than sharp sounds over a hissing melody, but all of it contributed to the overall hum of the universe. Through it all they held strong to the belief that the antithesis of their religion was an inharmonious cacophony. 

They were wrong.

Jocia Wison was the first Ladronis to leave their planet for an extended period. The Quay offered her refuge as a respected envoy, and a Karezza transport offered her passage to the station. She was told it would take five days to arrive, but she didn’t truly appreciate what that meant until they were well underway. The first few hours of her journey went by without incident. After twenty-nine hours passed, she began to feel uneasy and sick to her stomach. By the third day she couldn’t even bring herself to leave her quarters. The transport’s physician examined her but couldn’t find any physical reason for her sudden descent into sickness.

Jocia could have told them that. She knew her ailment was spiritual, and she knew that their religion had been wrong all along. Their enemy wasn’t discord. Even in the most strident sound there was the chance it could resolve itself into something beautiful. No matter how grating a song there was always hope. She now understood the true threat to the Great Chorus.

Silence.

She had been prepared for separation from her home, the sanctuary she built with her own two hands by weaving together sticks and mud. Each Ladronis crafted their own home so that the walls were fortified with baubles and feathers and trinkets important to them. Leaving it behind was a trial but it was one she had prepared for. But the silence of space was an unexpected terror. Space was a vacuum that defied sound. She could almost feel it pressing against her from all sides even through the safety of the hull, and she feared she had made a terrible mistake.

When she arrived at the Quay, she was nearly catatonic. The healthy blue tint of her skin had paled to a ghastly pale gray. She was taken to the infirmary where a beautiful doctor with skin colored like tree bark and short hair that looked like a stone faded by the sun examined her. The doctor introduced hirself as “Littlefoot” and promised to help, but Jocia could barely comprehend the words. The doctor claimed to know a little of Ladronis culture and placed a small smooth object in both of Jocia’s ears. She cried out and threw her fists at the doctor; the stones blocked her from hearing anything. Sound became hollow and obscure with the things blocking the canals.

But then something happened. At first it was just a low hum, but then it coalesced into a melody. Percussion and string, and a sound like running water that she’d never heard before. Her hands dropped to her sides and she stared at the ceiling. She felt calm for the first time in days, and soon she had drifted into a sleep as deep as if she’d been drugged.

When Jocia woke, she was calm enough to take the pieces out of her ears. She kept them in her hand as she listened to the new world. Voices nearby, a multitude, and a low hum of air filters and machines at work. She scanned the smooth metal walls of the infirmary with wonder. She’d been on alien ships many times, and she’d seen pictures of other worlds with their constructed habitats, but she still couldn’t get used to the cold utilitarianism of it.

She waited until she felt capable of standing, then went in search of the doctor Littlefoot. Ze was in hir office, hunched over a screen with the sleeves of hir beautiful robe hanging down like furled wings. Jocia politely coughed to make her presence known. Ze looked up and smiled again.

“Hello there. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. Thanks to you.” She held up the buds. “These were exactly what I needed. What are they?”

“Small speakers used to receive transmissions from a nearby hub. Keep them. I’ll make sure you’re assigned quarters with a radio receiver. You can use them any time you feel... overwhelmed.”

Jocia bowed her head in thanks. Now that they were both standing she could see the doctor was indeed little, at least compared to her. Most Ladronis women were over six feet tall, but the doctor seemed to be barely half-five. She realized she didn’t know her savior’s species.

“May I ask... what you are?”

Littlefoot’s face changed slightly. “I’m what we call two-spirit. Gender neutral.”

Jocia hesitated. “I’m... I apologize. I only meant your species.”

“Oh.” Littlefoot smiled, abashed. “I’m Human.”

“I’ve never met a Human before,” Jocia said. “You represent your species well, Dr. Littlefoot.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you, Ephor Wison.” She started to leave, but Littlefoot stopped her. “If you would like, I could show you through the radio channels. We have quite a few different genres to choose from. You might not like them all, or it may take you a while to find the one you prefer.”

Jocia said, “All music is part of the Great Chorus, and every note contributes to our understanding of the universe’s beauty.” She hesitated. “But I will gratefully accept your kindness. I would very much like your assistance in navigating the channels.”

Littlefoot nodded. “Okay. I’ll be in touch once you’re settled. I’m glad I could help, Ephor.”

“Jocia. You may call me Jocia.”

“Okay. Then I’m Cordwainer.”

Jocia couldn’t help but smile. Cordwainer Littlefoot... it was more than just a beautiful name.

It was musical.

Admiral Reshef assigned Jocia standard quarters but, upon request, allowed her to transform it into a traditional Ladronis residence. She requested sticks and twigs from every planet in the Aphelion Project to line the walls of her new home in the hopes it would bring her closer to the aliens she now called neighbor. She also requested a bathing basin from Ladrona, and XO Crow found a way to have it shipped without incurring any exorbitant fees. She said she’d heard about how important water was to the Ladronis people and knew the basin was vital. 

When her quarters were nearly complete, she invited Cordwainer to add a piece of her own. “Our tradition is that we fill our homes with things that are important to us,” she explained. “You saved my life when I first arrived on the Quay. You have been my friend in the weeks since. I would like to have a piece of you in this place.”

Cordwainer smiled and examined the nest Jocia had built. “I’m honored, Jocy. I’m a little overwhelmed. I’m not sure I have anything quite special enough to...” Ze reached up and touched hir hair. “Could it be a lock of hair?”

“Of course. I have shears.” She retrieved them from the drawer and stepped in front of Cordwainer. The doctor barely came up to Jocia’s shoulder so ze didn’t have to bow her head. “I will attempt to make a clean cut. I would not wish to make you look foolish.”

Cordwainer chuckled. They were standing very close together, and Cordwainer’s face was level with Jocia’s breasts. 

“Jocy... there are things I know about Ladronis anatomy. Things that lead me to believe you aren’t... what I mean to say is that while I prefer gender neutral pronouns and you choose feminine pronouns, your people are... more... gender fluid...”

Jocia smiled and snipped off a small lock of hair. She smoothed her palm over the back of Cordwainer’s head to make sure she hadn’t made a noticeable dent.

“That is true,” she said. 

“How does that work?”

Jocia took a step back so she could look into Cordwainer’s eyes. She cupped her cheek, the shorn hair still pinched between her thumb and forefinger.

“It means that if I were to fall in love with a man, I could receive him. And if I were to fall in love with a woman, I would be capable of penetrating her.”

Cordwainer’s eyes drifted down to the front of Jocia’s gown. “So you have a...”

“No.” Jocia chuckled. “But at full erection, my clitoris extends close to four and a half inches.” Her hand moved up into Cordwainer’s hair and she lowered her voice. “Is your interest strictly medical, Cord?”

“Yes.” Cordwainer wet hir lips, then met Jocia’s gaze again. “No.”

Jocia bent down and lightly brushed against her lips. Cordwainer stretched to meet her lips, moving one hand to the back of Jocia’s head. After a moment ze pulled back and moved hir hand to Jocia’s cheek.

“You’re trembling.”

“I’ve never kissed a Human before.”

Cordwainer smiled. “I’ve never kissed a Ladronis. So we’re even.” Ze kissed the corners of Jocia’s mouth. “Let’s teach each other what to do.” Ze looked around the room. “Is there a bed...?”

“We make love in the basin,” Jocia said. “If you would be more comfortable in your quarters...”

“No.” Ze took Jocia’s hand. “Take me to the bath.”

That evening was their first together, but there had been many in the three years since. On the morning of their third anniversary the memories disguised themselves as dreams in the moments before Jocia woke. Her clitoris was erect under the water at the memory of undressing Cordwainer for the first time, of tenderly spooning hir from behind to guide her erection into Cordwainer’s ass. She wished they could sleep together, but she found sleeping in a bed uncomfortable and Cordwainer couldn’t sleep in water because it drastically lowered hir body temperature during the night. There was also the problem of rolling over in hir sleep and getting a mouthful of water. It was easier and much safer for them to keep their own quarters, due to the different aesthetics of their races, but sometimes Jocia wished they could be with each other in the morning.

She rose from the basin still dripping, her clitoris swaying with the movement of every step. She dried off and then wrapped the towel around her erection, closing her eyes as she thrust her hips gently against the warm material of the towel. She thought of Cordwainer, thought of mounting hir from behind or feeling the water lap against her body as Cordwainer rode her.

Jocia grunted and came, biting her lip and tightening her hands around her throbbing clit. When her climax had passed, the clitoris withdrew into its hood and her breathing returned to normal. She checked her message screen and saw, in addition to notices from both Admiral Reshef and XO Crow, Cordwainer had also messaged her during the night. She smiled and opened that one first.

“I will be at work by the time you read this. But know that when I woke, you were the first thing on my mind. I touched myself and whispered your name when I finished. Did you hear me? I’ll await you at the midday meal, my sweet. Brightening day, and soothing waters upon your shore.”

Jocia smiled and pulled the keyboard out so she could type a response. She would suggest having lunch in Cordwainer’s quarters, but she would suggest that her partner have a snack first. She didn’t envision them spending much time on food once they were behind closed doors.

#

 _Aryana Barrien  
Balanquin  
Sastruga Mechanic_  
The ship purred in her ears. It soothed her to sleep and tenderly woke her every morning. People saw the ship as a thing. They thought it was a bunch of parts and gears working together, lubricated by oil, chugging along under someone else’s whim. Well, maybe it was, but the same could be said about people. People were just more complicated and so much messier. Aryana had been the caretaker of three ships in her life, and she remembered the foibles and tics of each one like a mother remembered her babies. 

Currently she was keeping the _Sastruga_ afloat under the command of Captain Cicerone Drayton. Cicero was a decent skipper. She didn’t understand the complexities of a ship, but she trusted Aryana to understand for her. “Just let me know if you need anything to keep her in one piece and keep her moving. I don’t need to know the details.”

The ship was currently on a trip back to the Quay after sitting dormant in dock for far too long. She was in the cramped corridors of the lower decks, her domain, where the pipes and wires and gears that allowed life comfortable above decks made passage crowded and tricky. Aryana didn’t mind. She liked crawling through the guts of her baby. It made her feel like she was actually part of its works. She rested one hand on a curve of pipe and felt its heat burning her skin before she lifted it away. Steam made her dark maroon hair hang lank. She was dripping sweat even though she was only wearing a sleeveless white top and shorts. 

She absolutely loved it.

The heat reminded her of Pelorum, the desert where her people plotted against their Catarahh oppressors. When the Karezza arrived and liberated them, Aryana got wise and took the first shuttle off-world. The only experience she had was as a terrorist, even if her cause had been just, so the only jobs she could take were those that weren’t heavy on respectability. Thieves and mercenaries and smugglers. She liked to claim she had no choice, but even if she had... who would choose an upright job aboard a person-hauler when there were criminal ships offering adventure and exploration? She got to see a side of the universe she’d never known existed. She wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Currently her ship had a slight stutter in its purr, and she wanted to be sure it wasn’t something serious. They would have the opportunity for a complete examination once they got to the Quay, but if there was an issue she wanted to know what to target. She crouched down and hunched her shoulders to angle her neck so she could see into the bowels.

“What are you trying to tell me, Trug? Hm?”

She reached her arm into the port and closed her eyes, moving by feel. Her fingers became legs, and the warm curves of pipes and metal walls skimmed over her upper arm. All the fine hairs there were burnt off years ago, leaving her smooth from the elbow down. At the very limits of her reach, with her shoulder against the wall, she felt a coupling between two vent systems. She bit her bottom lip and wrapped her fingers around its length. “Ooh, you’re loose, aren’t you? I can feel that wiggle. Poor thing.” She looked down at the tool pouch hanging from her hip. She could withdraw her hand, retrieve the proper tool, then snake her arm back in place and hope she could find the proper coupling again. Or...

She twisted as hard as she could. The fluids moving through the pipe felt like a solid creature as she forced it back into the thread of the male pipe. The sweat on her palm made the metal slippery, but she held tight until she felt it snap into place. She laughed triumphantly and withdrew her arm. She dropped onto her rump and used a rag to wipe the sweat from her arm. She listened to the hum of the ship and confirmed that it was running smoothly once more.

“There’s my baby. Doesn’t Aryana always take care of you?”

Normally an idle week wouldn’t be too big of a problem, but it really sucked that the whole thing had been a waste of time. No client, no job, nothing to justify the time spent twiddling their thumbs. Even the best ship in the richest fleet would shake and rattle after hanging out in low-atmosphere gravity for a whole week. They were far from the richest fleet, and the ship was far from the best in the sky, but Aryana made up for it with skill and a caring touch.

She crawled back the way she had come and squirmed back out into the main corridor. Her uniform was still neatly folded next to the hatch, and she wiped the sweat from her skin before she stepped back into it. Once she was presentable she climbed the long ladder up to the Operations Center. The name was partially a joke, a grand title given to a cramped space barely large enough for five work stations. Cicero had her throne-like chair in the center of the space, and there were monitors for the ship’s vital systems scattered around so she could get an immediate read on any of them in case of an emergency.

Usually the captain had the Ops Center to herself, but when Aryana arrived she saw an officer manning the communications station. Cicero was slumped in her seat behind the communication and navigation arrays. She had a toy puzzle in her hands, but she looked up from it as Aryana arrived.

“I don’t hear the rattle anymore, ‘Yana.”

“I took care of it. Just had to do a little crawling.”

Cicero said, “Good girl. Save us a bit of tariff at the Quay. I’ll see that it comes back to you.”

Aryana saluted with two fingers and went to the cooler hidden in the back wall. It contained Captain Drayton’s private stash of Vino Tallinn, a liquor from Karezz that she only shared with her permanent crew. She clipped the top and inhaled the fumes rising from the liquid inside. Cicero wasn’t stingy or cruel, and there was very little she wouldn’t share with her hardworking crew. But Tallinn was precious, rare, and expensive. It was nearly impossible to acquire without a contact in the Karezza fleet. She once asked the captain how much her stash cost and Cicero had just grinned.

“You know how Humans will claim something cost ‘em an arm and a leg? Well, I paid with a different part of my anatomy.”

“You whored yourself out for wine?” 

“Hell no. I got to fuck a gorgeous and wild Karezza man, and I got to take home some of his wine. The _lysyi didko_ could’ve given me the wine for free... I would’ve fucked him for free... either way, I come out ahead.”

Aryana had laughed. “How was the sex?”

“Nowhere near as good as the wine.” 

She handed the bottle to the captain so she could take the ceremonial first swig. As Cicero handed the bottle back, the communications officer tapped his screen to silence an alarm.

“Ma’am, we have Regulators on moving up hard and fast on our position. They just entered signal range and they’re buzzing us now.”

Cicero touched her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “Did the captain send an ID?”

Comm smiled over his shoulder. “It’s Radames.”

“Answer him.” There was a chime to indicate the channel had been opened. “Rada! I know you can’t be angling for your allowance. I just paid you last month.”

“Looking the other way for you may have hurt my neck.” Radames’ voice came through the speakers at the front of the room. “I may be asking for a second installment.”

Cicero smiled, but there was a coldness in her eyes. “I think you’re smarter than that, Rada. Don’t get greedy, pretty boy.”

He laughed. “I was looking at the docking reports on Taplinid and saw you were recorded as docking there recently.”

“Very recently. We just left after wasting a week in that godforsaken backwater. If I never see it again, it’ll be too soon.”

“No risk of that. It’s been destroyed.”

The bottle of Tallinn froze halfway to Aryana’s lips, and she looked at the captain. Cicero was sitting up straight now, and she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

“What, the whole city? How the hell did that happen?”

“We had a handful of survivors, but they’re as reliable as you could expect. A couple other nations on the planet had satellites that are giving us a bit of a broad view. Right now it looks like an unmarked ship came in, dropped off some shocktroops, spoke to the residents. They figured it was just a regular raid. Then the troops went back up to their ship and it opened fire. No order to surrender or for the criminal element to turn themselves in. Whole place was just crushed and burned and the ashes were soaked in water and buried. The only people who survived were on the edge of town and got away with only minor injuries.”

Cicero steepled her fingers in front of her face. “Must’ve been some rock...”

“Connection’s not great, Captain. Say again?”

“Nothing, Rada. Thanks for coming to check on us, but it looks like we made it out in the nick of time.”

“Uh-huh. If I didn’t have my allowance sitting in my account, I might be a bit suspicious of that timing. Hanging out for a week and then leaving right as the city is wiped from existence? Sketchy.”

Cicero’s voice was light but her expression remained grave. “It’s a good thing I always pay on time, then. Rada, if we’re not suspects, I have to ask if we can go on our way. We have a long journey ahead of us, you know...”

“I know. And I know where I can find you if I need you.”

“Always nice to be under your thumb, Rada.” She sliced a thumb across her neck and Comms killed the link. “ _Bozi tza_ ,” she cursed under her breath. “The whole city wiped out. Must have been fifty thousand people living there. Not to mention anyone who was in dock.”

Aryana said, “You mentioned something about a rock?”

Cicero shook her head. “Just thinking out loud. Probably unrelated. Coincidence.”

“You really believe that?”

Cicero shrugged and stood up, taking two steps before dropping down in front of the navigation controls. “Easier than the alternative. We’re going to give Rada enough time to look the other way, then we’re going to pump up our speed a little so we get to the Quay faster. Think the engines can handle that, ‘Yana?”

Aryana was already on her way back to the ladder. “If not, I’ll fix her until it can.”

“Good gal.”

Aryana saluted even though the captain couldn’t see it. She slipped the bottle of Tallinn into the pocket of her jumpsuit and headed down the ladder. Her mind was racing at the stone Cicero had mentioned, but she pushed the curiosity back. If they were going to be pushing their engines, then the _Sastruga_ was going to grumble and growl a little. She needed to be there to quiet it down before the whole works fell apart.

Whatever the captain was hiding could wait until they arrived at the Quay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Four**  
In lieu of portholes or view screens, Indira’s office walls were adorned with maps of the general area. The first crew of the Quay arrived and expected to see nothing when they looked out. What they saw instead was more magnificent than they ever could have imagined. More stars than any person could quantify, vast nebulas that swept across their range of vision. The universe had opened itself up to them and revealed its true immensity. Even before Humans made contact with the Paisian and discovered they weren’t alone, it was clear just how hugely they’d underestimated the size of their universe.

The maps helped keep things straight in her head. The Quay was in South Asia, with Earth further south. With the station centered in that manner, she was able to place the Balanquin territory near Mexico, the Karezza in far northern Russia, Paisian somewhere in the Indochina Peninsula, and the Acapsian settlements were the west coast of the United States. There were other races and they all had their respective analogs on her mental map of Earth. It wasn’t exact and it wasn’t pretty, but it was comforting to have her bearings when dealing with their incoming traffic. 

She didn’t even want to know how their vessel traffic authorities managed. Any given day could see up to twenty ships requesting permission to dock, in addition to those already moored. But keeping track of all the ships was child’s play compared to helping them navigate the debris field in the space around the station. After the war with the Cetidroi, their sector of space was littered with the husks of every kind of ship imaginable. Humans, Paisian, Karezza, Acapsian... they had all fought and they’d all been knocked back by the superior might of the invaders.

Indira didn’t like thinking about the Cetidroi War. Her mother had been the science officer on one of the first Human ships to confront the Cetidroi. She liked to believe her mother hadn’t even had a chance to be frightened, but she knew that was only wishful thinking. After half a dozen peaceful first encounters with aliens who truly wanted to be partners with Humans, they’d finally met a race that was only interested in destruction. 

The enemy was eventually turned back after a timely intervention by the Balanquin and their small but scrappy Air Force. Where the combined might of several races had failed, the Balanquin had taken a different tactic. Their ships were too small for the Cetidroi to target. This enabled them to get much closer to the Cetidroi ships, where their relatively weak weaponry was able to do some real damage. Weapons systems and shield generators were destroyed, leaving the Cetidroi vulnerable to attacks from Karezza and Paisian vessels. 

In the end, the Cetidroi were forced to retreat back to wherever they’d come from. The Karezza and the Paisian set up patrols and monitoring stations to ensure the enemy would never again be able to orchestrate another sneak attack like the ones that began the war. 

Deaths numbered in the millions, across every planet involved in the war. When the dust cleared, the races were united by what had been lost. Every race had stood to defend their neighbors. The sprawling battlefield was still littered with the broken and disabled ships even four years after the Cetidroi left. The smaller bits had been scuttled and salvaged by officially sanctioned crews or pirates looking to stock up on their supplies. Other wrecks were left until they could be properly searched for remains so they could be buried with the proper rituals. Every race had their beliefs and their funeral rites, and none of them involved leaving their dead frozen in the vast expanse.

The space around the Quay had seen massive amounts of fighting. The Cetidroi had seen that it was a well-traveled hub and sought to cripple every fleet by destroying it. Though they had escaped with only minor damage, their once empty “front lawn” outside the Kuiper belt now resembled a junkyard. Indira left her office and looked at the curved rows of technicians whose whole job involved guiding their visitors through that minefield without incident. Space was immense, wide, and deep, but space was also an incredibly dangerous place to get even a small hull breach. It was a delicate ballet, and she was proud of her people for making it look effortless.

She was about to go back into her office when her wrist-mounted device chimed. It showed a numbered station and the face of the helmsman who needed her attention so she made her way over. The main floor of Command were raised above the station so she crouched down when she arrived so he wouldn’t have to crane his neck to report.

“Is there a problem, Helmsman Oshiro?”

“Not as such. But you asked to be alerted when the freebooter ship _Sastruga_ was docked. Captain Drayton’s people just signaled in. They’ll be here in forty-five minutes.”

Indira didn’t have a problem with the pirates per se. She knew Bauwerji had some sort of intimate relationship with the captain of the ship, so they couldn’t be all bad. But they were unregistered and their ships were dangerous, cobbled-together messes. They were scavengers and, though she had no proof, she suspected they were thieves when the opportunity arose. Still, there was no reason she could think of to deny them docking permission.

“Contact station security and let them know they’re here. No need to be furtive. I want them to know we have eyes on them. And contact Bowery. Let her know that her friend is here.”

“Aye, Admiral.”

Indira stood up and walked away from Oshiro’s station. It irked her that she had mispronounced Bauwerji’s name in front of a subordinate. She knew the XO didn’t mind and even accepted the bumbling human version as a nickname. She was never offended or irked when a Human or Acapsian called her Bowery because she knew it was a difficult word for them to pull off. The actual pronunciation was closer to “Bah-whir-j-yee,” with a soft J. It was a beautiful name, and she said it the proper way under her breath as she walked back to her office.

The terminal on her desk was flashing a message when she sat down. It was from Oshiro. “SASTRUGA GRANTED DOCKING PERMISSION. CAP DRAYTON REQUESTED PRIVATE MEETING W/ YOU UPON ARRIVAL.”

That was incredibly curious. She was willing to have the pirates on the station but she and Drayton usually went to great lengths to ensure their paths didn’t cross. If she was requesting a meeting the reason must be something incredibly dire. 

She decided she would discover the details soon enough. When Bauwerji returned from lunch, Indira signaled her into the office and explained what the message had said.

“It’s bizarre, right?”

Bauwerji nodded. “Very bizarre. She doesn’t even like you.”

Indira smiled. “I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

“Well, you don’t like her, either.”

“This is true.” 

“She probably found something that requires an official response. She may be a criminal, but she still has morals.”

“I know. I doubt you would give her the time of day if she didn’t. I suppose there’s no harm in hearing her out. Should be interesting, whatever it is. She should be docked in just over half an hour. I’ll let you know when she’s on her way.”

Bauwerji nodded. “Will that be all?” 

“Yes. Let me know if you’ll need some personal time while Captain Drayton’s ship is on the station.”

Bauwerji hesitated halfway out of her seat. “That won’t be an issue.”

Indira tilted her head. “What happened? The last time she was here I barely saw you.”

Bauwerji sighed and dropped back into the chair. “The last time was a lot of fun. We were comfortable together. We were too comfortable. The last night she was here we didn’t even have sex. We just watched a Sensuite together and went to sleep.”

“Ah.” Indira nodded slowly. “You’re worried about a connection with her.”

“After the life I’ve led, can you blame me?”

Indira smiled. “Bowery, it’s... damn it.”

Bauwerji chuckled. “I don’t mind.”

“I do. Bauwerji. I understand where you’re coming from, but you’re settled now.”

“I was settled back on Pelorum. Right up until the Catarahh attacked us. And I was technically settled after the Karezza came in and saved us. I’ve been a terrorist, a slave, and now I’m a fugitive from my own people. I was fortunate to find a home here, thanks to you, but creating a relationship...?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that to her.”

“I would have thought Captain Drayton would be an ideal choice. She’s untethered, unconnected to any specific place. _Birst_ , she lives on an unregistered ship that bounces from one port to the next without a flight plan. She’s ideal for you.”

Bauwerji said, “So I thought as well. But when she left last time she asked if she could keep some of her things in my quarters. A few clothes, some trinkets she didn’t have space for on the _Sastruga_. Nothing items, really, but they meant a lot more.”

“They were an anchor,” Indira said.

“Right. So I told her it would be for the best if she took everything with her just in case we didn’t see one another the next time she showed up.”

Indira winced. “How did she take that?”

“I learned some fantastic Acapsian curse words.”

India laughed. “You’ll have to teach them to me sometime. I’m sorry, Bao.”

“Not as sorry as I am. She was a good lay. I should go out and take my station.”

“Yes, you should. Are you going to be okay sitting in with the conversation?”

“Oh, absolutely. She and I agreed sex would never get in the way of our work, so that shouldn’t have changed. Fingers crossed she feels the same.”

Indira shrugged. “Acapsians are famously casual about their sexuality. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Bauwerji gave a knowing smile without expanding on what was so amusing. “I’ll see you in half an hour, Admiral.”

“Aye,” Indira said.

Bauwerji returned to her station while India opened her terminal and focused on work. There were a few crime reports from the Purlieu District. Those were the hardest places for station security to patrol and were therefore rife with criminal activity. She skimmed the reported crimes and was grateful to see their officers already had people in custody for most of them. She was irritated to find that things like theft, assault, rape, and general violence against others was still part of society even in something as miraculous as the Quay. If there was any comfort in the reports it was that one perpetrator was Acapsian while another was Karezza. At least Humanity wasn’t alone in its darkest instincts. 

The half hour passed, and one of the dock workers informed her that Captain Drayton was on her way up. Indira signaled Bauwerji and led her into the conference room. They had just taken their seats at the oblong table when the lift doors parted to reveal Captain Cicero Drayton. Her much-patched leather jacket was a stark contrast to the Aphelion uniforms the other two women wore, her dark violet hair hanging long and uneven against her shoulders. Her gaze seemed to linger on Bauwerji as she came into the room, but she didn’t comment or give any indication of what she was thinking.

“Thank you for seeing me, Admiral Reshef.”

“My curiosity got the better of me, I suppose. You know Executive Officer Bauwerji Crow.”

Cicero nodded as she took the seat to Indira’s right. “Sure. Hi, Bowery.”

Indira cringed sympathetically, but Bauwerji only nodded. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited her to sit in with us. I assumed whatever you had to tell me would concern her as well.”

“It does. And to be honest, I would like to request a few other people sit in before I tell you why I’m here. Do you have representatives of the other Aphelion races aboard?”

Indira furrowed her brow. “Selina Rogers is an Acapsian diplomat. Ephor Wison is Ladronis. Nerea Paisian.”

“And your doctor?”

“Dr. Littlefoot. She’s Human, like me.”

Cicero nodded. “We’ll need a doctor. I’d like everyone you just named to be here.”

Indira said, “What exactly are you here to tell us, Captain? Just so I can prepare my people before I summon them all here for an audience with a thief and a liar.”

“And a con artist. Don’t forget that one.” She smiled, but even Indira could see there was something forced about the expression. She looked at Bauwerji and saw her fears were confirmed; something was definitely bothering the pirate. “Fine. You want the broad strokes? A client sent me to Taplinid so I could meet up with a potential customer. He wanted to sell me something. Long story short, it wasn’t worth my time, so I gathered up my people and left. Hours later, another ship landed in Taplinid. They asked a few questions and then burned the entire place to the ground.”

Bauwerji sat up straighter. “Taplinid is gone?”

“I confirmed it myself while we were en route to the Quay. Thousands dead, hundreds missing. I got in contact with the middleman who sent me there so I could see if there was any connection to the man I met with.”

“What did he say?” Indira asked.

“Nothing. The building where he keeps offices imploded around the same time Taplinid was getting erased from existence. Well, not the same time. About eight hours’ earlier. Funny thing is the travel time between his planet and Taplinid is about eight hours if you have a good enough ship.”

Indira said, “You think someone is destroying entire towns looking for this customer of yours? What in the expanse was he trying to sell?”

Cicero said, “If he was telling the truth, then it could be something cataclysmic. It could cause a war that would make that thing with the Cetidroi look like a training exercise. It could mean the end of everything.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Five**  
Cordwainer and Jocia lay together in the basin after making love, holding each other and occasionally dipping their heads to lick beads of water from the other’s skin. Jocia loved the way Cordwainer’s skin, with its copper and cinnamon tones, looked against her own cerulean and sky. They never actually got around to having a midday meal, but Jocia felt their hunger had been satisfied. When they first began a physical relationship, she’d tried to assign male and female roles to their actions. She had quickly learned better. She was not male or female, and Cordwainer straddled the line between the two despite hir birth. They alternated depending on mood between aggressor and passive. Today, Cordwainer had been the aggressor.

“Do you often think of Earth?” Jocia asked.

“What brought that on?”

Jocia said, “I’m only curious about the world that produced someone like you.”

Cordwainer smiled. “I was born there. It seemed so big when I was there.” Ze turned hir head and kissed Jocia’s nipple. “I wish I hadn’t. I was born in Earth gravity, which means I’m much shorter than I would be if I’d been born on the Quay. Maybe I wouldn’t have to stretch so much just to kiss you.”

“Or perhaps you would be so tall I couldn’t carry you to bed when you fall asleep in the bath.” She kissed the top of Cordwainer’s head, ruffling the gray-white hair with her breath. “I like you just as you are, Cord. I like how you feel in my arms. One inch taller would be awkward.”

Cordwainer smiled and moved hir lips to Jocia’s neck. “I have enough time in my break to fuck you again if you’d like.”

Jocia shifted under the water, rolling onto her stomach. She gripped the edge of the basin, rested her cheek against the smooth porcelain, and braced herself as Cordwainer pressed against her from behind. Ze slipped one hand between Jocia’s thighs. As Jocia was taller, she braced her feet against the bottom of the tub as Cordwainer straddled her legs. They had just found a rhythm that slapped the water against their sides in tempo with their increased breathing when the communicator on the wall chimed.

Cordwainer whimpered with almost physical agony. “That... is the Admiral’s chime, am I correct?” 

“Yes, my dear. I am so sorry.”

Cordwainer grunted and slowed down, reaching out with hir free hand to answer the call. She kissed the spot where Jocia’s neck met her shoulders.

Jocia pushed herself up out of the water and took a second to make sure her voice was steady before she spoke. “I am here, Admiral Reshef.”

“Ephor. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Cordwainer grunted quietly enough that the speaker didn’t pick it up. Jocia reached back and stroked her lover’s hip. “I was only taking a bath. How may I assist you, Admiral?”

“We have a visitor who requested your presence in the briefing room. If what she’s saying is true, it could be a very sensitive situation, one which may affect Ladrona as well as the other planets in the Aphelion Project. Could you possibly join us as soon as possible? If it’s inconvenient, we can record the meeting for you to--”

“There’s no need,” Jocia said. “I can be there in a matter of minutes. I only need to dry off and dress.”

“Thank you, Ephor.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Our next summons is Dr. Littlefoot. You... wouldn’t... happen to know where ze is, would you?”

Jocia grinned as Cordwainer buried hir face against the curve of her neck. “Yes, Admiral. I have intimate knowledge of the good doctor’s whereabouts.”

Cordwainer bit her shoulder.

“Yikes. Then I am doubly sorry for the interruption. We’ll try not to keep you too long.”

The call was disconnected and Cordwainer moved hir teeth up to Jocia’s ear. She bit down and Jocia squeaked. “You didn’t have to tell her we were fucking.”

“No. But that made it more thrilling.”

“Perhaps,” Cordwainer said. Ze lifted up from Jocia’s body, stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around hir torso. Jocia climbed out of the water as well and began drying Cordwainer’s skin.

“What do you suppose the Admiral is calling both of us about?”

“I’ve no idea,” Cordwainer said. “But it must be important. She seems like the kind of person who would tell us to stay put once she knew we were making love. The fact that she didn’t...”

“I agree. So it must be important.”

“I only hope it’s not a dangerous importance.”

Jocia looked at hir, well aware that Cordwainer occasionally saw portents about danger on the horizon. “Do you feel that it may be?”

Cordwainer hesitated before answering. “Let us first see what the Admiral has to say and who her guest is. Then I will make a judgment.”

Jocia nodded, but she linked her fingers with Cordwainer’s for a long moment before she went to dress.

#

_Nerea Paisian  
Paisian  
Science Officer_  
When Admiral Reshef summoned her, Nerea was in eighteen different places on the station. She was at the docks to verify the contents of a supply ship coming from Earth contained what they’d requested. She was aboard the only Paisian vessel on the station to catch up with her people. She was recharging in her quarters, monitoring radiation levels outside the station, keeping an eye on the vital signs of the two techs they had on a spacewalk to repair a sensor array, and thirteen other assignments of varying importance. 

The Paisian were the first race Humans encountered while the Quay was still under construction, and despite their fast and enduring friendship, they were still the race Humans struggled the most to understand. Each Paisian “individual” was comprised of over a thousand smaller mechanical entities, all of which were self-aware and capable of autonomy. They joined together as a hive in order to share information. To make first contact more comfortable, the Paisian ambassador assumed a Human form. In the decades since, after the Paisian joined the Aphelion Project, it became trendy to “go Human.” They assumed individual names, although their surname was always Paisian. They didn’t have a concept of families beyond the hive. 

Nerea had been assigned to the Quay two years earlier. She had already become one of the most educated officer on-board. She was capable of doing over thirty different tasks at once by detaching a swarm of fifty to a hundred nanoids and sending them off in a small swarm. The swarms she dedicated to each task varied in size according to the degree of difficulty and attention required. When the task was completed they would return to their host, reattach, and disseminate the information to the rest of the consciousness.

Nerea recalled her disparate pieces after assuring the Admiral she would be there as soon as possible. One by one the swarms returned to her, alighting on her arm or shoulder before being absorbed. She catalogued the information brought to her by each new arrival while she waited for the rest. It was sorted, filed, and earmarked to be sent to the appropriate work stations as soon as the full report was compiled. She was pleased to see everything on the station was operating at required parameters.

While her nanoids could give her a Human shape, they were utterly hopeless at complex things like faces or hands. Rather than forcing her fellow officers to interact with a mannequin, she had a series of pliable masks that gave the impression of a face. She fitted one over her head and the nanoids formed against its backside so she could blink, move her lips, mimic expressions, and so forth. Her blunt and featureless hands were covered by gloves.

Once she was completely reconstituted, she examined herself in the mirror. Her hair was a short red wig that just barely covered her ears. She had a small button nose, widely spaced blue eyes, and a wide smile. She had once been told she resembled a Human actress named Liliya Dumitru, but she had watched several of the woman’s movies and couldn’t see the resemblance. Still, perhaps her mask had been constructed to match the entertainer’s features and her nanoids changed it just enough to give her a unique personality.

When she arrived at the briefing room, she found that everyone else was already present. “I apologize for my delay.”

“It’s all right, Nerea. We know you had the farthest to travel, in a manner of speaking.”

Nerea smiled and took her seat. It was unusual to see so many of the various races together in one room. Captain Drayton and Selina Rogers were Acapsian, aliens with an intriguing blend of Human and reptilian traits. They were cold-blooded and looked reptilian, but their eyes were Human. But they were viviparous and gave birth to live young rather than laying eggs. Their skin was also adorned with thin, pliable feathers which they could braid or style in the manner Humans, Karezza, and Balanquin did. Their colorization ranged from cobalt blue to emerald green. Drayton was a darker blue while Drayton had more green to her complexion. Nerea didn’t know enough about their society to know if that affected their class standing, but it seemed telling that Selina Rogers was a diplomat while Cicero Drayton was a pirate.

Across from Drayton was Bauwerji Crow, the Balanquin second-in-command. Though she wore the uniform of the Aphelion Project, she was still very much her own person. Her skin was pale red and her eyes were golden. She had the most interesting facial structure, with a bridge of bone across her brows to shade her eyes. The lower half of her face was more prominent than the top of her head, giving her a sleek appearance. 

Jocia Wison, Ladronis, smelled of water and the spices she used to bathe. The Ladronis were practically amphibious, choosing to spend the majority of their time underwater. The few Ladronis homes she’d seen, constructs of twig, stone, and mud, seemed to be built around the basin they used as beds. Jocia also had a smaller basin near her door so she could wash her hands before entering or leaving her home. Whether she was trying to prevent the contamination of her home or vice versa, she didn’t know.

The remaining two attendees were Indira Reshef and Cordwainer Littlefoot, the only Humans in the room. She didn’t know much of Humans. She knew Indira was Indian, and Cordwainer was _an_ Indian, and she knew those were different things, but she couldn’t grasp the complexities. The blunt truth was that Humans were... simple. The other races aboard the Quay had a uniqueness to them, something that drew attention. They were bland and easily forgettable people, save for their occasional bursts of surprising intellect.

Nerea processed the thoughts about the others in the room as she was taking her seat. Swarms of nanoids in her body were also examining the room’s temperature to make minute adjustments to her internal thermostat so she would be comfortable. 

Once she was settled, Admiral Reshef gestured at Captain Drayton. Cicero cleared her throat and steepled her fingers in front of her.

“This all feels very official. I feel like I’m being interrogated with all these uniforms looking at me.” She shifted uncomfortably and Nerea noticed a spike in the captain’s temperature and heartrate. She sent a small swarm of nanoids to the wall and triggered an adjustment to the ventilation systems. A cool breeze swept across the table. Cicero’s eyes immediately locked onto her. “Thank you.”

Nerea inclined her head in acknowledgement.

Cicero explained about her client, the customer with the stone, and what she’d been told about Taplinid. 

“What’s so special about the stone?” Jocia asked.

“According to the man trying to hire me, it was one small fragment of a much larger event. An incredibly old event. Millions of years old. The rock contained evidence of organic life. The basic building blocks necessary to kick-start evolution under the right circumstances.”

Cordwainer held up hir hand. “Are you talking about panspermia?”

“That’s what he implied,” Cicero said. 

“That’s amazing. But I wouldn’t kill for it.”

Bauwerji said, “I don’t understand what’s so amazing about it.”

Cordwainer looked at Indira, who nodded for hir to explain. “Panspermia is the theory that life was seeded throughout the galaxy on meteors. Microscopic organisms hitched rides on the shrapnel of some ancient explosion. The pieces went all over this area of space and impacted anything that happened to be in its way. If the conditions were right, the organisms would flourish and eventually lead to the creation of sentient life. It’s one reason scientists believe life on Earth, Pelorum, Ladrona, Acapsia, et al, started in the same general time frame and why we ended up so similar to one another.”

“Similar?” Selina sounded skeptical.

“Relatively speaking,” Cordwainer said. “Two arms, two eyes, bipedal. Our differences are largely cosmetic and cultural. It all depends on the planet of our origin and what circumstances had to be met for life to begin. And you have to understand we’re talking about the most very basic fragments of life. The smallest ingredients could be baked into two extremely different dishes based on the chef.”

Bauwerji said, “Am I alone in being... unimpressed? Yes, this is all very interesting. But I can’t imagine anyone killing to get this rock even if they could prove it was from the same original incident that led to all of us sitting at this table. What would be the point?”

Cordwainer said, “There are two possibilities. Neither of them are very attractive. One, someone could be planning to use the organic material to create a whole new race in a lab. They would be able to speed up the process, and they could control the environment to suit their needs. Whoever destroyed Taplinid may seek to build an entire subservient race to serve as...” Ze shrugged and held hir hands out. “Slave labor? A mindless army to do their bidding? They could build an entire race of people to order.”

“What’s the other possibility?”

Cordwainer sighed. “That’s the one that frightens me the most. If this is indeed a remnant of the event that created all life discovered so far, then on a very basic level it is us. It still exists in all of us to some degree. If someone got their hands on that rock and the organisms growing on it, they could manufacture a weapon to target us specifically.” 

Indira said, “Biological warfare?”

“It’s possible.”

Jocia said, “If we all evolved from this stuff, wouldn’t whoever uses the weapon also be susceptible?”

Bauwerji said, “Not if they didn’t evolve from this... panspermia event.”

Indira tensed. “You’re talking about the Cetidroi.”

“We’ve never been able to determine where they came from. Their technology was far beyond anything any of us had, which implies they got an earlier start. What if they were already around when we were still flopping around the primordial ooze?”

Cordwainer nodded slowly. “If their evolution pre-dated ours, and if panspermia is indeed the way evolution began, and if this stone was indeed part of that event...” Ze sighed and shook her head. “There’s a lot of speculation happening here.”

Indira said, “One thing we know for certain is that whoever destroyed Taplinid believes the rock is worth killing for. That alone is reason for us to be alarmed. We can worry about why they want it later. For now, we have a rogue ship somewhere in the sector with the capability of leveling an entire city. I don’t care what their endgame is. I want to know where they are and what we can do to stop them. Miss Rogers, Ephor Wison, I’d like you to contact your governments to see if they’re willing to assist us in this matter.”

Selina said, “I can already tell you the answer is yes. I’ll give you details on what manner of assistance they’re offering once I’ve spoken to them.”

Jocia nodded. “Our people will also lend their support.”

“Thank you. Let them know the Aphelion Project will be immensely grateful for their help.” She pointedly did not look at Bauwerji. “I’ll get in touch with the Balanquin people to inform them of the situation. I’m sure they’ll be willing to help as well. Nerea, I’d like you to contact the Karezza.”

Nerea nodded. “As you wish.”

“XO Crow, if you could cover our other allies?”

“Of course.”

Indira nodded and stood up. “We need to move quickly. Either these unknown assailants found what they were looking for on Taplinid or they are still looking for it. I would like to be prepared if they show up again. You’re all dismissed.”

Nerea stood as the others filed out of the room. Indira went to one of the screens displaying the section of space immediately outside the Quay. The screen showed a vast starscape marred by slowly spinning pieces of ship debris. The remnant fleet of the Quay, someone had once called it. 

When they were alone, Nerea stepped closer. “Admiral.”

Indira twitched. “I thought you had left with the others.”

“I apologize. I only wished to ask you a question. If what Captain Drayton and Dr. Littlefoot says is true, then we could be facing an enemy even more formidable than the Cetidroi.”

“Cicero said the same thing before the rest of you arrived. While we were waiting, I read the reports from Taplinid. That level of destruction... the loss of life... it’s horrendous.” 

Nerea nodded. “I accessed the same files while we were speaking.”

“Of course you did.” She turned to look at her friend. “You said you had a question.”

“Yes. If this enemy is stronger and more advanced than the Cetidroi, how do you intend to fight them? The Aphelion Project barely survived that war.”

Indira looked at the wrecks on the screen once more. “That is a very good question, Nerea. If you find the answer, please let me know.”

“I’ll work on it.” She started to leave, but Indira stopped her by saying her name again.

“How many functions are you capable of at one time?”

“Thirty, more or less.”

“Maybe until this is over, you could dedicate twenty-nine of your functions to figuring out a defense plan.”

Nerea nodded. “As you command, Admiral.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Six**  
Bauwerji caught up with Cicero at the lift, slipping between the doors just before they closed. Cicero looked at her but said nothing. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space and stared straight ahead. After a moment the silence got to Cicero and she broke the silence. “I thought we’d left things pretty clear last time.”

“Yeah.”

Cicero looked at her. “So what are you doing in this lift?”

“I have places to be, too.”

“You have to contact the Irikoan, Sautoria, and Occamian. You could have done that from Command. This is a matter of some urgency, so I don’t know why you’d waste time...”

Bauwerji stopped the lift and spun to face Cicero. “If you’d taken that job, these _asihti_ would have come after you. They would have destroyed your ship and I never would have seen you again.”

“Wasn’t that the point? You didn’t want to be attached in case something happened. You didn’t want any ties. You didn’t want to feel anything if I died.”

Bauwerji’s face contorted in an attempt not to cry. In a larger space she would have turned and taken a few steps to increase the distance between them, but trapped in the lift she could only rock back on her heel and face the wall as she rubbed her wrist under her nose. She faced Cicero again. 

“You could have died.”

“Didn’t.”

Bauwerji grabbed Cicero’s face and kissed her, slamming into her hard enough to knock her against the back wall. Cicero wrapped her arms around Bauwerji and returned the kiss, slipping her tongue into Bauwerji’s mouth as she spread her fingers over the curve of Bauwerji’s ass. She pulled Bauwerji tight against her, grinding their hips together as Bauwerji clutched the front of her jacket hard enough that Cicero was worried the material would rip. 

Cicero turned them and reached out for the button to start the elevator again. Bauwerji slapped her hand away. “Don’t.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The doors could open and someone could see.”

“So?”

Bauwerji grunted and shook her head. “Fucking Acapsian voyeurs.”

Cicero grinned, her body shaking with silent laughter. She kissed Bauwerji’s cheeks, the flat expanse of her brow, and the flat bridge of her nose. Bauwerji cupped Cicero’s face and brushed her thumb over her cheek. From a distance the skin looked smooth, but now she was close enough to see the minute overlapping scales. She pressed her lips against them and closed her eyes.

“I’m grateful you didn’t die.”

“Me too.” She kissed Bauwerji’s hair and hugged her. “I love you, Bauwerji.”

Bauwerji closed her eyes and moved her head to Cicero’s shoulder. She wanted to reciprocate, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. The last time she had, she’d been forced to watch the person she said them to die a few weeks later. Somehow she felt that saying the words made the pain even worse than it otherwise would have been. She reached out and started the elevator, then guided Cicero’s hand between her legs. She leaned back and looked into Cicero’s eyes, bracing herself against the wall as the lift began moving again.

Cicero smiled and began to move her hand in slow circles. Bauwerji bit her bottom lip and rocked her hips against Cicero’s hand. The lift moved smoothly through the station, its gravity generators keeping them rooted to the floor even when the car moved horizontally. The trip between Command and the docks typically took three-point-seven minutes, and that was if no one else called for it to stop. Cicero used her free hand to undo the slacks of Bauwerji’s uniform and crowded against her, putting her hand inside and cupping the other woman’s mound.

Bauwerji rolled her head back on her shoulders and tightened her thighs around Cicero’s hand.

“Hurry.”

“No.”

Bauwerji showed her teeth. She thought of what she would do to Cicero when they were behind closed doors, thought of their past encounters, trying to push herself to climax. She felt her orgasm building and clapped a hand over her mouth. Cicero pushed it away. Bauwerji whimpered and then bit down on her bottom lip. She surrendered and gave a keening cry of release just as the lift began to slow. She gripped Cicero’s hand, pulling it from her pants and twisting away to turn her back on the door. She had just fastened her pants when the doors opened to admit a young Human officer.

Her cheeks had darkened by the time she turned around. Cicero’s shoulders were trembling from withholding her laughter, and the Human stood obliviously between them. Bauwerji took a steadying breath and ran a hand over her braids to rediscover her calm. She looked to her right and saw Cicero staring at her, their brief moment of eye contact enough to make Cicero’s laughter break free. Bauwerji sighed and shook her head.

Fucking Acapsian.

#

Word quickly spread about Taplinid and the reason for its destruction. The Karezza and Balanquin were the first to offer their assistance, declaring their most powerful warship would be at the Quay’s disposal until the situation was settled. The Paisian had faster ships and, as such, offered their services should the attacker’s identity become known. Captain Drayton organized a conference call from her ship, blocking any signals she received to protect her informants from being identified by the Aphelion Project. She waited until they were alone on the cramped bridge of the _Sastruga_ to express her concerns.

Cicero only shrugged. “If you want them to help, they have to know they’ll be safe. Otherwise they won’t talk to me at all. I think under the circumstances we can let a few petty smugglers slip through the cracks.”

Bauwerji reluctantly agreed, for the time being. She knew Cicero’s black market contacts were their best chance of finding out who the mysterious attackers were, but that didn’t mean she had to like using them. She crossed her arms and paced toward the back of the room.

“You’re being a bit hypocritical,” Cicero pointed out. “During the conflict with the Catarahh, you were black market as well.”

“That was different. I was fighting for a cause.”

“So are my friends,” Cicero said. “So am I. You think just because the Aphelion Project is nice and cozy for you, it’s the same for everybody. That’s simply not the case.”

Bauwerji said, “Stability and security. The knowledge other races are supporting you. That is what the Aphelion Project offers.”

“A cage,” Cicero said, “where your every need is met, your food is always on time, and you never have to worry about anything. It’s stifling, Bauwerji.”

Bauwerji looked down at her feet, forced to see her uniform instead. When she became an officer of the Aphelion Project she traded the fur and animal hide uniform she’d brought to the Quay for the official costume. For years she’d worn the soiled uniform of her own people. She had mended it while sitting in a cave shivering, she had used its battered and torn jacket as a pillow. Now she had shining buttons and a tailor fifteen decks away whenever she had a loose thread. She refused to feel ashamed of that, but she did admit that perhaps she’d become soft.

“Perhaps after the life I’ve led, a bit of comfort in a cage isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

Cicero looked at her. “I wasn’t judging, Bau. I swear.”

“I know.”

Cicero stood up and put her hands on Bauwerji’s shoulders. “I would never waste time on a soft and toothless Aphelion marionette. They can pretty you up as much as they want, Bauwerji Crow, but you have a fire in you. You have always been and will always be a soldier.” She bent down and bit Bauwerji’s bottom lip. Bauwerji put her hand on the back of Cicero’s neck, letting the braided feathers hanging down tickle the back of her hand.

The console on the arm of Cicero’s chair sounded. “I should see who that is.”

“And I should turn away so I don’t inadvertently read their contact information.”

“That would be ideal, m’dear.” 

They stepped apart from one another and Cicero went back to her station. She pressed her palm against the screen so it could read the lines of her palm before it allowed her access. The face of a Karezza man named Nyazik Azik appeared, looming too close to the lens as always. When he realized the connection had been made he leaned back and blinked his oversized eyes. His worm-like lips twisted in an expression that was either boredom or irritation. He began speaking as if they’d already started the conversation.”

“We were supposed to meet someone on Taplinid in three days. Could’ve been us. Makes me sick, Cicerone. What do you need from us? What can we do?”

“My people are working with the Aphelion Project to track these _pahrahnut shooh’nuhe cochen_ down.” Bauwerji was shocked to hear the vulgarity coming from Cicero. The woman wasn’t exactly a Kind Tongue, but that particular curse was usually reserved for a different breed of person. “Can we count on your crew, Azik?”

“Just tell me what you need, Cicerone, and it’s yours. If nothing else, they need to be taught they can’t mess with any of us, or the rest will come running.”

Cicero nodded. “I’d have done the same for you, Azik, you know that.”

“Reciprocated.”

“I’ll be in touch when we know more. I assume you have contacts I don’t know about that you can inform? Let them know that everyone is coming together for this. We don’t have to worry about something petty like warrants being called up.”

Bauwerji tensed, but said nothing. It was bad enough Cicero was talking to a Karezza, but they’d never promised that warrants would be ignored. 

“I’ll get to them right now. Stay in touch, Cicerone.”

“You too.”

She disconnected the call and looked at Bauwerji. “If I’d known it was a Karezza, I wouldn’t have answered while you were here.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Admiral Reshef never promised to ignore warrants.”

“Under the circumstances I think she has worse things on her mind than a few petty criminals. If Azik and his contacts can help, then they’ll earn having the charges dropped.”

Bauwerji shrugged. “An argument for another time, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.”

The console chimed again and Bauwerji moved toward the exit. “I’ll contact Nerea, see if the Paisian have discovered anything else.”

“Good idea.”

Bauwerji left, but not before casting one last look at the captain. Acapsian, criminal, exhibitionist. Definitely not the sort of woman she saw herself finishing her life with. And yet, at some point during their relationship, she’d become the only person she’d want in her life for that long. Cicero looked back to make sure she was gone. Bauwerji smiled sheepishly, nodded to her, and finally left the bridge.

#

The only thing Aryana knew for certain was that the various members of the Aphelion Project were in a panic. Granted, an entire city had been destroyed by an unknown vessel, but it was a criminal haven. In her experience, the high and mighty Aphelion forces should have just shrugged and made a blithe comment about ‘those who live by the sword.’ Instead, every race was bringing in the big guns. She heard the Paisian and Karezza were both offering ships to help pursue the culprits, and the crew mentioned several officers in Aphelion uniforms were spotted aboard the _Sastruga_ without arrest warrants in their hands.

She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew the ship would need to be at its best for whatever happened next. She sent her techs to runs checks on every component of the engines, double-checking everything even if it seemed to be working smoothly. They had plenty of fuel left to burn, but just in case she checked the reserves and found them adequately stocked. The plasma vents were due for a cleaning. Ordinarily those could wait until the next time they were at the Quay, but she wanted everything to be pristine in case they had to push everything to the limits.

Aryana was en route to the engineering section to assign someone to scrub the vents when she caught sight of someone in an Aphelion uniform pass through the intersection of corridors ahead. The gray uniform was complimented by red skin, and Aryana quickened her pace to catch up with the officer. She recognized Bauwerji Crow even from behind, but she didn’t say anything until they reached the lift. 

“Pardon me. Bauwerji Crow?”

“Yes... oh.” She blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t aware Cicero had a Balanquin crewmember.”

Aryana smiled. “I’m usually buried somewhere in the guts of the ship. I’m the engineer. Aryana Barrien.” She extended her hand, withdrew it to make sure her fingers weren’t dirty, and then offered it again. “I knew you and the Captain were acquainted.”

“Yes.” The elevator arrived and Bauwerji stepped inside. Aryana joined her. “I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind right now. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“I’m actually on my way to engineering right now. Just hitching a ride. Not shadowing.”

Bauwerji smiled slightly and crossed her arms behind her back. Aryana kept her eyes forward and tried not to steal glances at the woman beside her. Bauwerji was one of the most famous Balanquin soldiers in history. She was on the front lines during the conflict with the Catarahh, unofficially leading a platoon of soldiers to retake their cities. She’d become a legend among the other units, a name they brought up when they felt too tired to keep fighting. She was one of the reasons Aryana got up some mornings when things looked the darkest.

And even after Aryana left the planet, she heard tales of Bauwerji’s exploits during the Karezza occupation. It was during those dark times that the Cetidroi invasion happened. Bauwerji had been a member of the planet’s Air Force, leading the charge with their small but maneuverable bracijera ships and ultimately winning the war. Two conflicts, either one of which could have been disastrous to the Balanquin people, both ended because of Bauwerji’s involvement. And how did they repay her for her duty? By branding her a fugitive, a murderer, and abandoning her on an alien station.

The doors opened and Bauwerji moved to leave, but Aryana grabbed her arm. Bauwerji tensed and looked at the hand on her sleeve, then slowly raised her eyes to meet Aryana’s.

“Sorry.” She dropped her hand. “I just wanted to let you know that... I believe the way you’ve been treated by our people is reprehensible. A lot of people think so. But the government... the Karezza are heavily involved, so just to save face we have to... I mean...”

“I know,” Bauwerji said. “I understand.”

“You do? Because I don’t. Everyone knows what happened, Bauwerji. Everyone knows why you killed that man. If the rest of your crew had stood up for you--”

Bauwerji closed the lift doors and stepped in front of Aryana again. “If the rest of my crew stood behind me, they would have been imprisoned or put to death. I bear no ill will against them for turning their backs. They turned their backs so I could escape. I owe them my life. I won’t have you speaking ill of them. Am I understood?”

“Yes, XO.”

“Good.” She relaxed slightly. “And... thank you, Aryana. Sometimes it’s good to know I haven’t been forgotten out here in the wilds. You’re actually one of the few Balanquin I’ve actually seen in a very long time.” She pressed the back of her hand against Aryana’s, then twisted it so they could link fingers. Aryana recognized the gesture and bent her wrist so that their hands formed a flat plane with their thumbs tucked underneath.

Aryana said, “I thought... you and Captain Drayton were...”

“We are,” Bauwerji said, still looking at their linked fingers. “But what we have is not so fragile as to be destroyed by recreation.”

“Oh.” Aryana blushed. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Sorry if I was presumptuous.”

“No. I mean... maybe.” She brought her hand up to her face and kissed their joined fingers. “But it would be a lie to say I’m not interested.”

Bauwerji smiled. “Perhaps sometime when we both have free time. Although I’m uncertain when that might possibly be.”

“Yes. Things do seem quite frantic. Are you at liberty to tell me what is happening?”

“I don’t know. So I probably shouldn’t. Suffice to say that we will need everyone at their best.”

Aryana nodded. “I was just on my way to engineering for another round of safety checks. I may not know what’s going on, but I can sense the weather as well as anyone. Something big is coming soon.”

Bauwerji nodded. “It would seem that way, yes. The best you can do is stay prepared.”

“And in the meantime... if I find myself in a Sensuite theater on the Quay...”

“I wouldn’t turn down an invitation to join you.”

Aryana said, “Excellent. Until then, best chances with whatever your current endeavor may be.”

“And to you.”

The lift doors opened and Bauwerji stepped out. Aryana waved goodbye and smiled at the officer through the closing doors of the lift. She smiled at the thought of being propositioned by the captain’s girlfriend, a Balanquin legend no less. She would of course make sure it was definitely on the level with Cicero before she acted on anything. But for now she was content to let the excitement of a potential tryst overweigh the worry she had about the mysterious oncoming storm.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Seven**  
Selina returned to her private office on the commercial level to contact her government. She knew her government’s leaders would wholeheartedly agree to whatever the Aphelion Project decided. Their alliance had been a tremendous boon to the Acapsian people. They were much more advanced than Humans, technologically speaking, but their culture was stagnant. Their first contact with Humans triggered a Renaissance. Their names were difficult for Humans to say, so the first Acapsian dignitaries adopted Human names just for convenience. Soon the trend spread across their home world. Children would give each other Human names, families gave themselves surnames that served almost as titles, and soon newborns were being given Human names at birth.

Selina Rogers had been born Asphfexjaqen. Even she didn’t like saying it. But Selina Rogers was like a breath of air, a sigh, a caress. Sometimes she said it to herself under her breath when she crawled into bed at night. Sometimes she said it as she was climaxing. She loved being Selina Rogers. She loved what Humanity had given to the Acapsian people. The last time the Aphelion Project came to them for help, during the Cetidroi conflict, they had suffered tremendous losses. She prayed that wouldn’t factor into their decision to help now.

When her screen connected, she was gazing into the smiling face of Chander Rogers. He was shirtless, bald, and sitting on the edge of a bed with rumpled sheets. Behind him she could see a pair of slacks that were far too wide for his frame draped over the back of a desk chair.

Due to his surname and Humans general lack of ability to notice the fine details of Acapsian faces, most assumed he was her husband. It wasn’t difficult to understand their confusion. They lived and traveled together, they shared quarters, they made love with each other. But Chander was actually Selina’s clone, a perfect copy in every way save for one small chromosomal hitch. She designed him to be male, as most Acapsian people did with their first clone. They were well aware of what the rest of the Aphelion Project would think (How can there be consent? “If the clone is me, and I chose to make the clone, then wouldn’t the clone by the very nature of being me already have consented to its creation and therefore what is done with it?”) so they just kept it quiet.

“Good morning, Chander,” she said. “You look well-fucked.”

He smiled and looked over his shoulder for the evidence she’d spotted. “Aha, yes. I’ll have to remind them to be a bit tidier next time.”

“Them? Well. Someone has been having a party in my absence. I’ll have to catch up.”

“You could always come home. I’ve missed you, Selina.”

She sighed and began swinging her chair from side to side. “And I’ve missed you. But I’m afraid I’m not calling for pleasure. There’s been an incident.” She briefly explained what happened to Taplinid and watched as his expression grew somber. As she discussed their meeting with Captain Drayton, he stood up and walked out of frame. She knew the speakers were loud enough for him to hear from anywhere in the room, so she continued speaking.

By the time she finished, he had returned with a data receiver. “We hadn’t heard of Taplinid. We already had a squadron ready to head out to Pahleis. A Regulator monitoring station out that way went dark. We assumed the residents had knocked it out themselves so they could put together a scheme, but now you have me worried. I’m contacting the magistrate to approve three more squadrons just in case the first is flying into a disaster like Taplinid.”

“Probably wise.”

He looked up from his receiver. “I assume you were calling on behalf of the Aphelion Project.”

“Especially now that Pahleis may have suffered the same fate. I don’t want to discuss details over an open line, but this could be an incredibly cataclysmic.”

“On a level of...?”

“Cetidroi invasion.”

He scoffed. “Certainly...” His voice trailed off when she didn’t join in his mocking. “Surely they’re just blowing it out of proportion.”

“I wish I could be more explicit, Chander. Once you have all the details, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Well, of course I will.”

She smiled. “You know... it will take some time before you receive a response from the magistrate.”

He grinned back at her and put down his receiver. “Yes, I suppose. What would you like to see?”

Selina began unbuttoning her blouse. “You know what I want to see.”

He winked at her and stood up to remove his slacks.

#

Bauwerji didn’t want another war. She didn’t think her conscience, or her mind, could bear any further atrocities. She was born into a world of peace. Her braided hair represented the women who had served before her. They were armies that never saw combat and were never given reason to use their skills. They were brave and strong. She was unprepared for the attack that came at her graduation. Her first official minutes as a soldier had been full of bloodshed and death. She’d watched one of her opvoedors get blown apart. His blood had stained her tunic sleeves until the first rainfall.

She went from shining student to traumatized veteran in the space of an hour. She huddled in the underground classrooms as the sounds of battle shook the foundation of the building. Some of her classmates had taken the quick way out. She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as the strongest killed those who couldn’t pull the trigger themselves. Then a gun had been placed in her hand.

“Please, Bauwerji,” her best friend said. Her words were hard to discern because she was crying so hard. “I can’t do it. Please.”

Bauwerji had left the school alone, loaded down with whatever weapons she could find. Some of them were duds, meant only for training exercises, but she learned how to sabotage them so they could make a difference. She would leave them behind and wait for the Catarahh to pick them up. The weapons would explode as soon as their triggers were pulled. Because of these traps, Bauwerji never knew how many deaths she was responsible for. Some Balanquin cut marks into their skin for every life they took, but that was an archaic and brutal tradition. She saw no reason to continue it, but she modified it for her own purposes. She cut her arm for every person she lost. Every soldier under her command who had been left behind on the field of battle because she couldn’t get to them in time. Her upper arms were a labyrinth of scar tissue.

Eventually the endless war ended. The Catarahh were turned back by their new friends the Karezza. The Balanquin were scattered and haunted, but they were still alive. When the Karezza offered to take over the day-to-day mechanics of running a society, they Balanquin eagerly accepted. They bowed their heads in gratitude and allowed themselves to be fitted for yokes. Thus began her second war, against their “saviors,” a quiet war that was fought in small attacks and unspoken resentment.

Bauwerji was allowed to become an officer in the Balanquin Air Force. She learned to fly a bracijera and she also learned how to take care of their engines. She was adept as both pilot and mechanic and quickly rose through the military ranks until she was the leader of her particular hangar. But those weren’t the skills her supervisor cared about. He was Karezza, as was everyone in a high-ranking position in the days after the war. She never knew if he truly found her attractive, if it was only a power move, or if there was some perverse attraction to fucking an alien. But she quickly became his favorite.

He would take her whenever it struck his fancy. Often it was in the middle of the hangar while her coworkers and fellow soldiers pretended not to see. She took the indignity without complaint, because as long as he was rutting her he wouldn’t rut anyone else. She was willing to suffer so her sisters wouldn’t have to. 

It was during the Karezza occupation that her third war began. The Cetidroi invaded and declared war against every race in the sky. No one, not the Humans or Paisian or Acapsian, could stand against this mysterious new threat. Warships were being destroyed at a rate faster than they could be sent to the front. Every planet was suffering horrible losses as the war raged on. Finally a Balanquin general suggested using the bracijera ships. They were marginally space-worthy and too small for the Cetidroi ships to get a lock on. The Cetidroi may have had huge ships, but their weapons platforms were small and vulnerable.

Bauwerji was in the first wave of fighters. As predicted, the Cetidroi didn’t even know they were there until the first volley destroyed their forward weapons. The Balanquin skimmed along the belly of their enemy and left destruction in their wake. Weapons were destroyed. Defenses were disarmed. Soon the Cetidroi were defenseless, and the remaining ships in the Karezza and Paisian fleet came in to finish the job.

Bauwerji had returned home as a war hero. The second war of her brief lifetime was won, and this time the Balanquin had played a part in their own salvation rather than waiting to be rescued. She thought it would inspire them to rise up against the Karezza. She expected a firm yet polite declaration that they were ready to fend for themselves now. It never came. Her people had become far too content with the Karezza occupation. Once the Cetidroi limped back to wherever they came from, the Balanquin returned to their subservient positions as if nothing had happened.

A few months after the final battle, Bauwerji arrived at work to find her supervisor raping one of the new mechanics. The girl was whimpering, pleading for him to stop, and Bauwerji saw one of the more senior officers making gestures for her to be quiet. Bauwerji knew the logic: just bear the indignity and pain, and it would be over soon. There was no use fighting. There was nothing to be gained by saying no. She had kept the same argument rolling through her mind each time she was pressed against the hull of her ship as her uniform was casually pulled down.

She picked up the wrench as she crossed the garage. It was huge, almost as long as her leg with a head as large as hers. She swung it in front of her like a pendulum to get accustomed to its weight. She stepped up behind her supervisor and swung from the hip. The jagged head of the wrench caught the side of his head and threw him violently to one side. He half-turned, and she brought the wrench down on his forehead with the follow-through.

The first blow probably would have killed him in time, but the second finished the job. She dropped the wrench and looked at her fellow pilots, mechanics, and slaves. Killing a Karezza citizen for any reason was punishable for death, a sentence leftover from their arrival on the planet when a government still populated by Balanquin officials feared xenophobic attacks. Failure to report such an attack would get her friends life in prison, if not worse. She waited to see which would be the first to betray her.

Instead of acting in their own interests, every person in the room slowly turned to face away from her. A crime unwitnessed could not be reported. But she held no illusions that she would escape punishment for the murder. The man she killed had friends, most of them high-ranking lawmen. She took the opportunity her friends had given her, climbed into her ship, the _Biju Sprinter_ , and escaped before the call to close the hangars could go out.

The trip to the Quay had nearly killed her, but she arrived in one piece. Admiral Reshef offered her sanctuary when she heard the whole story. The Karezza-Balanquin government was forced to back off their attempts to extradite her for fear of exposing the whole story. Bauwerji was more than willing to confess to her crime, but she would also explain why she did it. The Karezza didn’t wish to have such information spread throughout the civilized worlds, so they allowed her to remain on the station.

Going home, however, was out of the question. She was a murderer, she had humiliated the Karezza by escaping without punishment, and she’d embarrassed her own people by shining a light on their own lack of action. She knew that returning home would only lead to her arrest, the only question was which faction would arrest her and what trumped-up charge they would manufacture to justify her incarceration.

She sat on the edge of her bed, outer garments draped over the back of a chair so she could run her fingers over the hashmarks on her upper arms. Another war. Inevitably it would mean more losses, more people she couldn’t save. In the years since coming to the Quay her arms had remained thankfully free of new marks. Now...

Her door chimed and she quickly slid her uniform jacket back on to cover her marks. When she answered, she was a bit surprised to see Cicero standing before her.

“Cicero?”

“Anyone else in my position would be frightened. Our ship came within one decision of being destroyed. No one would blame me for being scared. I’m made of stronger stuff, though. My crew depends on me being tougher.” She looked down at her boots. “I’m going to find who destroyed Taplinid and I’m going to stop them from destroying anything else. And I’m... angry. I’m not scared.”

Bauwerji reached out and touched Cicero’s cheek. “Well, I am. Cicero, will you please spend the evening with me? I would feel less scared if I could reach out and touch you during the night. So I’d know you are not missing.”

Cicero pressed her thin lips together and nodded as she shrugged. She still refused to meet Bauwerji’s gaze. “I suppose. If it would... make you feel better...”

Bauwerji moved her hand to Cicero’s, linked their fingers, and gently pulled her into the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Min Paget sat in front of her screen and used both hands to push her hair out of her face. Her quarters were dark save for the light emitting from the computer, but it was enough for her to type by. Her editor had sent a nudge reminder because he hadn’t seen any footage since her arrival on the station. She assured him there would be plenty to come. She did have quite a bit of video that needed to be edited together. She could send that batch to appease him. The simple truth was that she’d allowed herself to become distracted her first day on the station.

She looked over her shoulder at the bodies lying on her bed. The woman was Acapsian, a reptilian with the softest hair she’d ever felt. She told Min they were technically feathers as she brushed them over her stomach. The man was Balanquin, the first Balanquin male she’d actually seen in person. They were lighter in color than their female counterparts, with features that were harsher. She’d seen them in the food pavilion and asked if they would mind answering a few questions about their relationship. The Acapsian agreed, but only if Min joined them for a meal.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Min asked, “but isn’t the act of sharing a meal erotic for your kind?”

The Acapsian smiled. “You could always say no.”

She hadn’t said no. In fact, she savored that meal more than any in recent memory. Afterward they invited her back to their quarters for an “in-depth” look at how an interspecies relationship worked. “You’re an embedded journalist,” the Acapsian said, forming each word carefully in English. “You’re here for... how long?”

“Five years at a minimum.” She had gone to great lengths to not say that out loud. Now that she was actually on the Quay, she decided it was time to face reality. She wouldn’t be seeing Earth for half a decade at best.

“Well then,” the Acapsian said, “you definitely need to get acquainted with the locals.”

Somehow that spur of the moment decision turned into nearly a week of exploration. Five years of work loomed ahead of her, so wasting time at the beginning of her deployment seemed like nothing. It was a way to acclimate her to the realities of being on the Quay and so far from home. If she had to live and work with aliens, she might as well dive in with both feet. It would be hard to be intimidated by them if she’d had them inside of her. As for the sex itself... she’d never been with a Human woman, so making love to the Acapsian was a true eye opener in every sense. And the Balanquin man... well... She blushed as she scrolled through her notifications, shrugging the sheet higher onto her shoulders.

Near the top of the list, the messages acquired bold lettering with an angry red outline. “Taplinid destroyed,” she muttered. “How could an entire city...” Before she could finish the question, she saw another alert claiming Pahleis had met the same fate. Two enormous cities with known criminal populations suddenly get destroyed in the same week? There was no possibility that was a coincidence. Her editor was rightfully irritated with her silence. Of course her ridiculous little profile was going to have to wait. Whatever was happening, the Quay was likely to be at the center of it. There was no way New Dhaka could get another reporter there in time. 

She’d just lucked into what could be the biggest story of her lifetime, and she’d nearly missed the chance because she was busy fucking aliens. If it wasn’t so irritating she would have laughed.

Min sent an appropriately abashed message to her editor and swore to him she’d get on the story immediately. She stood up and let the sheet fall, digging through the discarded clothes on the floor to find hers. As she was dressing the Acapsian woman sat up and watched her dress.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Apologies,” Min said in heavily-accented hal’latch. “You and your friend were a marvelous distraction, but I am afraid duty calls.”

The Acapsian crawled to her and cupped the back of her head. “You were a marvelous lover,” the Acapsian said, sliding her tongue into Min’s mouth. Min’s resolve weakened, but her story was slipping away with each passing second. She reluctantly ended the kiss and looked at their Balanquin companion.

“Tell him goodbye for me, yes?”

“Of course.”

She finished dressing as the Acapsian bent over her Balanquin lover. With a pang of longing, Min left her quarters. The residential and guest sections of the Quay were in the lower levels of the station. The Command center was nearer the top. She doubted they would allow a civilian inside at a time like this, let alone a reporter, but she had to try. She hurried to the lift and directed it to take her as high as it could without an officer’s authorization. It left her five levels below Command, near the food pavilion where she had met her companions, and she began going through her mental schematics of the station for ways to get higher. The area of the station holding the food pavilion was triple-tiered, with a medical center on the highest level. That had to be public access. 

Min ascended the stairs two at a time. She was working out how she would explain herself if she did gain access to the Command level. If there was a connection between the destruction of two cities, the Aphelion Project would do everything in their power to prevent a panic. Unless, of course, she promised to use the power of the media to do good. There were other cities like Pahleis and Taplinid that might be at risk. She could use her articles to alert people of the danger. She would be extremely careful with her word choices so as not to incite a panic or a mass evacuation. She had to imagine anything capable of destroying an entire city would be extremely obvious when it arrived. She would simply tell people that they should be wary. 

That would be her way in. Everyone would be clamoring for the latest information, but she would be the only one promising a balanced and calm-headed reporting of the facts. The Aphelion Project would have to recognize the value of that. She just had to gain access to the Command level to make her case. When the war with the Cetidroi was raging, the reaction from Earth was incredibly mixed. Some people thought it was clear that if the Quay fell, Earth would be next. But for the most part reporting was almost nonexistent. The fighting was months away, being fought by soldiers who couldn’t possibly be drafted from Earth. 

That event was the straw that broke the camel’s back. First contact with the Paisian was the first time the Aphelion Project expressly ignored Earth’s opinion. They made the decision to extend the hand of friendship when Earth’s official stance was to remain neutral. To the officers on the Quay, neutrality wasn’t an option. They needed allies if they wanted to make any progress at all exploring the universe. It had been a big rift between the two groups, but they came out the other side mostly intact.

Min didn’t doubt the day was coming when the Quay became large and self-sufficient enough to declare independence. If Earth tried to cut off their supplies, they could always look to their friends on Pelorum, Oxom, or Karezz for anything they couldn’t make themselves. Though that day was definitely coming, she imagined it was far in the future. For now, the mere act of placing her aboard the station so the people back home could see what was happening was a good sign that Earth was still invested in the Quay and the people stationed there.

A new war could change that. That was why she needed to get into Command at all costs. She stopped at the medical center and searched for anyone wearing an Aphelion uniform. She spotted the Medical Officer, Dr. Littlefoot, standing next to a patient’s bed. She had to tread carefully. She was still extremely new to the station. She hadn’t had her official meeting with any of the command staff - truly her only regret about her week of debauchery - and she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. She smoothed down the front of her blouse and made her way over.

“Dr. Littlefoot?”

Ze turned and glanced at Min’s clothing. “I’m sorry, but I’m rather busy--”

“I know, I can only imagine.” She glanced at the patient. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. But I was hoping you would be able to escort me up to the Command level. I need to meet with Admiral Reshef as soon as possible.”

“And who would you be?”

“Oh. Right. I’m Min Paget. I’m a representative of the Home Press.”

The doctor’s demeanor changed. “Oh, the journalist. Admiral Reshef was hoping to meet you when you came aboard. For a reporter you’ve been rather good at keeping yourself out of sight. Hopefully you haven’t been spying on everyone from a distance.”

Min smiled. “No. I was just getting a feel for the station. Getting to know the locals, as it were.” She had a mental flash of the Acapsian dragging wet fingers over her lips and then leaning in to kiss Min. She pushed it aside. “But this morning I received some alarming news that I wanted to confirm with the Admiral before I did anything with it. Is it true that Tapl--“

Cordwainer gripped Min’s arm hard enough to hurt and dragged her away from the patient’s bed. “The Admiral would not appreciate you talking about that in such an open forum. How much do you know?”

“Only that Taplinid and Pahleis were both destroyed by attackers unknown. Are you confirming there is cause for alarm?”

“No. Caution, perhaps.” Ze glanced deeper into the infirmary and moved toward someone in a dark maroon smock. They spoke briefly, Cordwainer thanked the other doctor, then motioned for Min to follow hir out of the infirmary. “I’ll take you to the Admiral’s office. She can decide whether to fill you in or ask you to mind your own business.” Ze held out a hand. “I’m Cordwainer Littlefoot, by the way.”

“Yes, I know.” She shook hir hand. “I did extensive research before and during the journey out here. One thing about the trip from Earth, it gives you plenty of time to catch up on your reading.”

Cordwainer smiled and ushered Min into a lift. “And once you’re out here, it doesn’t take very long to discover that there’s only so much you can learn from reading. Do you know what happened to the last reporter assigned to the Quay?”

Min furrowed her brow. “I assumed his assignment ended and he went home?”

Cordwainer shook hir head. “He had seventeen months left on his assignment. But he quit. He resigned from his post, sent back the money he’d already been paid, and declared he wouldn’t be writing anymore ‘propaganda’ for the people back home to distort. The people on Earth don’t want to know the harsh facts about what’s really happening out here. They want to know everything is peachy, the aliens love and depend on us, and that we all get along a hundred percent of the time.”

“And that’s not true?”

Cordwainer looked at her with pity. “How could it possibly be true? There are six races permanently residing aboard this station. Humans can’t even coexist peacefully with ourselves. Do you know Earth and Pelorum are the only worlds that still have intraplanetary wars?” Ze sighed as the lift doors opened on the Command level. “The truth is, we’re the young and embarrassing race that would probably have been wiped out by the Cetidroi if it weren’t for the Balanquin people. A generation ago, our best and brightest managed to put a space station right where our neighbors needed it. But we’re not essential to them.”

Min stepped out of the lift. “But the Quay is a vital position between several great powers. That has to count for something.”

Cordwainer smiled. “Imagine the universe is a vast campus with the greatest minds from history employed as professors. Einstein, Plato, Tesla, Archimedes, Diotima... they all wander back and forth between each other’s classrooms to have deep conversations about the meaning of life. They walk along the same long path every day. Then, one day, without realizing the path was even being used, a member of the janitorial staff places a bench at the midway point between all the classrooms. Suddenly Albert and Nikola can have a seat if they get winded walking from one classroom to the other.”

“So Humanity is... just a groundskeeper?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Groundskeepers and janitors are vital. They keep the world from falling to ruin. They fix the problems that would never even occur to the great thinkers. But that doesn’t mean the philosophers respect the contribution of the bench.”

Min scoffed and looked around herself at Command. The wall of video screens, and the sunken rows of workstations where techs and yeomen worked to navigate ships safely into harbor.

“That may well be,” she said, “but the fact remains that it is still a hell of a bench.”

Cordwainer smiled. “Indeed it is.”

They reached the Admiral’s office, and Cordwainer knocked before easing open the door. “Admiral Reshef? I found someone you’ve been looking for. Allow me to introduce Min Paget, the new spy from the Home Press.”

Min had kept a level head throughout the entire process of coming to the Quay and during her quest to reach this point. But now that she was actually in the presence of Admiral Indira Reshef, she found herself nearly overwhelmed by the woman’s presence. She was a celebrity on Earth. The leader of the Quay, commander of their military might at the far reaches of their home system. She was beautiful, charming, personable during her rare on-camera interviews, and she was a goddamn military hero. It was hard for Min to stay standing when all she wanted to do was drop to one knee and kiss the woman’s ring.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet the legend,” Min said, proud of the steadiness in her voice.

“Get that out of your head right now.” Reshef softened her words by smiling as she gripped Min’s hand. “I hope our interactions can be civil and mature, Miss Paget. Our relationship with your predecessor was very agreeable on both ends.”

Min nodded. “So I hear. Apparently he went native.”

Reshef glanced at Cordwainer but didn’t admonish hir for gossiping. “He decided the story of the Balanquin was much more interesting material. He’s on Pelorum right now doing research for a book. It should be an interesting read.”

“I would imagine,” Min said. “Admiral, I wish I could say this was just a getting-to-know-you meeting, but I had an ulterior motive for asking to come here. My editor has heard about Taplinid and Pahleis. He sent me a notification demanding answers.”

Reshef raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite surprising when you consider the Home Press goes out of their way to ignore what happens out here. They’re more interested in adjusting what their reporters send so it reads better for the public. I’m sure that’s where you got the impression I’m some sort of heroic figure. The truth is there are hundreds of soldiers out here, scientists, engineers, explorers, doing all of the work. I’m a bureaucrat who makes sure the requisitions get filed in time.”

“Well,” Min said, “with your permission, I would like to get to know those people in the course of my investigation. And if there is a threat, I’ll do my damnedest to make sure everyone back home hears about it.”

Reshef nodded. “I’m very glad to hear that, Miss Paget. I look forward to working with you. If you are sincere about knowing the gritty details, I’ll have a yeoman show you to a briefing room where you can read what we’ve discovered so far. It isn’t much...”

“It will be plenty, I assure you.”

“Then I won’t keep you waiting.” She touched a screen on her desk and stood up. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss Paget.”

“Min, please.”

Reshef acknowledged her with a nod. A yeoman appeared in the doorway. “Please escort this young woman to the briefing room and set her up with a console. Min, I trust you’ll be able to find the pertinent files?”

Min winked. “It’s my job to dig.”

“Then I shall leave you to it. My door is open if you need anything at all.”

Min thanked her, then let the yeoman escort her away. She looked at the sea of people in Command as she was led away, everything but their heads and shoulders lower than the floor. On the screens she could see a handful of ships navigating the debris field. The people of Earth deserved to know what was really happening on their doorsteps, even if Humans weren’t the heroes. And she was determined to be the one who pulled back the veil.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Nine**  
The _Sastruga_ was silent in the middle of its night. The crew was accustomed to a thirty-hour cycle, and it was easier to maintain it than try adjusting to the Quay’s shorter days. Of course a vessel of that size was never entirely asleep. A skeleton crew maintained the bridge and engineering, while there was always a medic on duty in the event of overnight incidents. Aryana lay in her bunk and stared at the ceiling above her, listing the people she knew who might have been visiting Taplinid or lying low in Pahleis. She thought about the brothels she had known in both towns, the fences who had been obliterated in one horrendous moment. 

Since joining Captain Drayton’s crew, she’d seen all kinds of places. The Acapsian capitals were full of magnificent architecture. She liked their squat huts and the soaring edifices of the planetary capital. The Pelorum cities were gorgeous in their disarray. They were still struggling to rebuild after the Catarahh attacks, and the Karezza were influencing the reconstruction with their own architecture. The result was a strange blend that Aryana barely recognized anymore. And the Ladronis! They lived in massive warrens of huts that spread across the ground like a blanket. From above, Ladrona looked like a sea of twigs, leaves, and mud. But a closer inspection revealed true nuance and beauty.

But nothing compared to those rathole slums, the lawless corners of ignored planets where anything could be bought or stolen. She’d been warned about ‘associating with the wrong type’ when she took up with a crew of thieves. But her kin aboard the _Sastruga_ were more family to her than the people who gave her life. She had brothers and sisters at home, her father was still alive, but they were only blood. Her true brother was Yannyra, who noticed when her heart was broken and sat silently with her as she cried. Her sisters were Batizha and Eziz, who were the first to show her the sights on some of the planets they visited. Batizha hired a Karezza escort for Aryana’s first time with another species. They were the people she would give her life to save, because she knew they would do the same.

The Quay should have been her favorite rest stop. It was clean. It had a varied population. There were very few Humans out in the greater universe, so she would have ample opportunity to see them. There was pretty much every kind of entertainment and amusement. She knew Eziz was taking advantage of their elaborate Sensuite theaters. She could only imagine what mischief the horny little Karezza was getting up to. Sensuite theaters were on every planet they went to, but some were just plain better than others. The Acapsian didn’t really have any qualms about sex of any stripe, so their Sensuites were peculiarities for their visitors. Rarely updated, unmaintained, glitchy. But on planets like Irada and Aspilastyon, where the Sensuite game was run by...

Aryana sat up so quickly her bedframe squeaked and her mattress shifted underneath her. She just barely avoided knocking her head on the curved hull of the ship, and she rolled over onto her stomach to look down into her room. Irada and Aspilastyon had good Sensuite theaters because they were overseen by the Nyree Vacik. That group was also responsible for the Sensuite machines on the Quay and Pelorum. They were not, however, the ones who provided theaters for Taplinid or Pahleis. 

She pushed off her covers and scrambled down the ladder. Two cities did not make a pattern. It could have been a coincidence that those towns were targeted. They were both polestars for criminals in every system. Low-rent, high-stakes, it didn’t matter, all were welcome there. But she had a hunch that she couldn’t ignore. Someone was looking for that rock, and they were willing to knock out entire cities to get what they wanted. So why would they skip a place like Irada? Someone traveling from Taplinid to Pahleis would have to pass by Irada. It was only logical it would be searched as well.

She opened her monitor, turned off the screen of sexual intercourse that popped up automatically, and searched the wires for news from Irada. As far as she could tell from the news and weather feeds, everything was fine there. Nothing to report. She searched for the newsfeed reports of Taplinid’s destruction, then Pahleis’, and she compared the two in order to estimate when the attackers would have been passing by Irada. Assuming a constant rate of speed and no stops in between...

It took her a few minutes to narrow it down to a small time frame, but she settled on a four-hour period. The problem with a den of thieves was that they rarely provided in-depth news reports about what happened within their borders. She accessed their docking records and looked for anything that might indicate a vessel capable of destroying an entire city.

She was about to give it up as a hopeless cause when something caught her eye. Five shuttles from a _yahri_ -class ship. That was the kind of ship Vacik used. Five of their shuttles were enough for approximately forty-five troops. The shuttles were docked for two hours before they left without incident. The time of their departure lined up perfectly with their arrival in Pahleis.

It could be completely innocent. The only reason she was checking on Irada was because Vacik had theaters there. Maybe it was a routine visit. But then why would he send so many troops? Surely forty-five troops was overkill for a visit from the boss. And whoever destroyed the other two cities was obviously looking for something. What if they had gone looking at Irada, but Vacik spared them from destruction because he had business interests there?

The theory was insultingly paltry and small. There could be any number of explanations for what she had found. It could have been a complete coincidence. And yet she stared at the docking report as if it was dripping with blood. She could feel it was important. 

She activated her communicator and tapped in Cicero’s code. After a long silence, the channel opened. The captain gave a gasp that ended with a grunt, and then, “What? Who is this?”

“This... is Aryana Barrien. Are you all right, Captain?”

“Just getting fucked, Yana. What is it?”

Aryana blushed red. She would never get used to the Acapsian proclivity to share their sexuality with one and all. ‘Just getting fucked’ was announced with all the weight of someone else declaring they had just sat down to dinner. 

“I apologize for the interruption, then...”

“You’re not interrupting,” Cicero groaned. “We’re still... ung. Anyway... unless you just called to listen...”

“I... I don’t... it...” She furrowed her brow. “I-I wanted to run a theory by you. But I think it deserves your undivided attention. We can talk in the morning.”

“If you think that’s best.”

Aryana said, “I do. Have a good... fuck.”

Cicero laughed, and Aryana ended the call before she could invite her to listen again. She focused on her screen again. If the pattern held up... she dug through a few registration sites until she found a list of Sensuite establishments owned and operated by the Nyree Vacik. She rearranged them in order from nearest to furthest in relation to Pahleis. Then she sketched out a route and discovered if they were holding to their pattern, they should have departed from Ticih less than an hour earlier. She went to their page and hacked into their docking records.

Five shuttles from a _yahri_ -class ship. They stayed in the port for two hours and then left without incident.

She was breathing hard as she did a search of the neighboring systems. She was looking for any backwater planet with a large city known for its criminal activity. That city would most likely not have any businesses operated by Vacik. It took a bit of searching but she found it: a city called Karakoz on a Karezza planet. It was eight hours away from Ticih, which meant that if she was right, the people of Karakoz had less than ten hours to live.

Aryana rested her elbows on the table and massaged the spot between her eyebrows with two fingers. It was the wildest of hunches, the longest of shots. But the pattern appeared to hold up. Vacik was sparing the planets on which he had business, but the others were destroyed. He would destroy Karakoz as soon as he established it didn’t hold what he was seeking. She had to decide whether she could live with saying nothing if there was another devastating attack, or if she would survive the embarrassment of wasting a few hours of the Aphelion Project’s time.

So, at the risk of wasting everyone’s time and effort, she typed up her theory - along with links to the pages that would support her - and sent copies to Captain Drayton and Admiral Reshef. They could decide if the idea had merit, and it would be their call to divert their forces to intercept. The choice was out of her hands, and that was definitely a decision she could live with.

Her responsibility successfully passed along, Aryana leaned back in her seat, fingered her communicator, and debated calling Cicero back to hear how things were going.

#

Everything about the Paisian, everything they showed to other races at any rate, was for the convenience of others. Their ships were constructed with corridors, lifts, personal quarters, windows, and seats solely for the benefit of any guests they had aboard. Before making first contact with another race, the Paisian were content to exist as swarms, occasionally linking up in order to share information before moving on. Their first contact with Humans revealed how unique they were in the universe. Humans, Acapsian, Ladronis, Karezza, Balanquin... every other race was comprised of bipedal individuals. So for the sake of conformity and ease of interaction, the Paisian adjusted. Whenever they were off-world, they joined together to form people.

Bauwerji wasn’t entirely comfortable with the Paisian. They appeared normal until someone got within arm’s-length of them, and then seams and creases could be seen in their skin. The tiny blocks, nanoids, did their best to make these joints invisible, but it wasn’t possible to hide them all. They gave themselves names, they seemed to have distinct personalities, and if someone didn’t know they were a combination of millions of pieces, it wouldn’t be immediately evident that they were different.

She knew her dislike of them was prejudice, pure and simple, but she couldn’t help but wonder about them. They could break off a tiny piece of their finger, leave it in someone’s private room, and that piece could report back later. It was unsettling. She comforted herself with the fact that she hadn’t picked up the Human term for them: Puzzlemen.

The Paisian ship that was docking on the Quay that morning, for instance, basically amounted to an unnecessary affectation. She watched on the monitors as it was guided into one of their larger berths and tried to imagine what it would look like if the Paisian had built it for themselves. Probably a featureless, hollow box with a sea of charging stations along the interior walls. And while they were good at mimicking the look of their bipedal colleagues, their creativity left much to be desired. Every Paisian used Paisian as their surname. And when it came to naming their ships...

“Paisian Vessel 4203-B14 is successfully docked,” a tech reported.

Bauwerji thanked him with a nod and opened a channel to the Admiral to report the vessel had arrived. The Paisian had responded immediately to their request for assistance, and the ship was to be used to track down the people responsible for destroying to cities. Admiral Reshef exited her office and joined Bauwerji in the central aisle.

“Did you have a chance to look over the report from the _Sastruga_ ’s engineer?”

“I did,” Bauwerji said. “It looks promising. I’ve already sent a warning to Karakoz warning them of the potential attack. They promised to let us know if any _yahri_ -class vessels show up in their system. But seeing as time is short, I’d like your permission to take leave immediately.”

Reshef nodded. “You are dismissed, XO Crow. Good luck.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Bauwerji had selected her crew from the Aphelion Project officers already aboard the station. She sent word that their ride was waiting and ordered them to their stations. When the lift arrived, Jocia Wison was already inside.

“Officer Crow. I was on my way to see you.”

Bauwerji joined her in the lift and signaled it to take her to the docks. “I’m moments away from shipping out on the Paisian vessel to see if we can find the people responsible for these attacks. Can it wait?”

“Actually, that’s what I wished to discuss. You’re pursuing the people who caused the tragedy, but your plan doesn’t take into account their goal. The seller of the rock is still out there somewhere. If we can find him, we may be able to draw the people hunting him into a trap. With Captain Drayton’s permission, I would like to use the _Sastruga_ to conduct a search.”

Bauwerji said, “It’s a good idea. If Cicero agrees, contact Admiral Reshef to let her know what you’re doing. Hopefully one of us will have some luck.”

“Thank you, XO. I’d also like to request Dr. Littlefoot accompany us rather than you.”

“We’ll be looking for the attackers, and you’ll be looking for the stone. I’d rather have her with you, too. Maybe she can give us an idea of what the rock actually is.”

“That would be nice.”

They arrived on the docks and split up to their respective ships. Nerea, the only Paisian assigned to the Quay, was waiting for her with the vessel’s captain. She made the introductions, identifying the vessel’s commander as Valdis Paisian. Bauwerji couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was indeed a true captain. Did that mean there were other Paisian aboard who answered to her? Or did she just send out swarms from her body to perform menial tasks while the rest of her remained hooked into a charging station. Either way, she had learned to keep her mouth shut about such things.

She was about to board when she heard someone calling her name from the lifts. A Human woman in civilian clothing was rushing toward her. Her features were Indasian, her dark hair bouncing against her shoulders as she ran. She was out of breath when she finally reached them.

“Officer Crow. I apologize. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself when I arrived on the station. My name is Min Paget, with the Home Press. I’ve been assigned to cover the Quay.”

“Ah.” Journalists bored her, but Human journalists in particular were hardly worth her time. They made a living writing things that only existed to be censored or simply discarded by those in charge. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, Miss Paget. Our meeting will have to be postponed.”

“Actually I wanted to join you. I know a little bit about what’s going on, and I want to be able to give people a firsthand account.”

Bauwerji grimaced but could think of no reason to refuse the request. After all, if a Human journalist was interested in telling the actual truth, she didn’t want to stand in the way of that. The Aphelion Project was a nice figurehead that brought every species together under one umbrella, and it was nice to have them say complimentary things about what the Quay was doing. She knew without a doubt Admiral Reshef would agree to the journalist going with them.

“Fine. Just try to stay out of our way.”

Min smiled. “Thank you. I just...” Bauwerji turned and walked away, leaving Min caught mid-word. “Uh, well, thank you. I guess.”

Nerea offered a polite smile. “Welcome to our vessel, Min Paget. I’m sure Officer Crow is merely burdened by the task ahead of us.”

“I’m sure.”

Nerea gestured for Min to lead the way onto the ship, and the journalist hurried to catch up with the fast-moving Balanquin officer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Ten**  
The thieves’ ship smelled of fragrances that Jocia couldn’t quite identify. It was cloying and sweet without being objectionable. She closed her eyes and tried to locate the memory associated with the scent. She thought of the huts on Ladrona, huddled close together in the homes they’d built themselves. When the nights grew cold and the smoke rose from the stovepipes and mingled in the air to obscure the stars. The _Sastruga_ reminded her of those nights, and she tightened her arm around Cordwainer’s as she fought off a new bout of homesickness.

They were assigned shared quarters close to the interior of the ship. It was safer, their escort explained, because the hull had a tendency to vent into space.

“In the event of an attack?” Cordwainer asked.

The escort hesitated. “Yes. Of course. In the event of attack.”

Cordwainer and Jocia exchanged nervous looks, both grateful for the added protection of having a few walls between them and the vacuum. Once their escort left, the two began unpacking to make their temporary home more comfortable. Jocia had her earbuds in case the silence became too much for her, while Cordwainer had a tablet filled with medical texts and a few fictional works to keep hir occupied on the downtime. Ze didn’t foresee having much opportunity to read, but it was nice to have them available. Ze sat on the edge of the bed and Cordwainer joined hir, taking hir hand to kiss the fingertips.

“Our first time cohabitating.”

Cordwainer smiled. “Yes it is. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Mm.” Jocia stroked her fingers down the center of Cordwainer’s palm. She knew it was highly unlikely they would ever share a home. Humans found Ladronis dwellings cramped and uncomfortable. Ladronis found Human quarters sterile and uninviting. She could bear it for a few hours or days, but anything longer was simply out of the question. But for the time they were away from the station, she had no choice but to use the ship’s quarters.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to a spot just below Cordwainer’s ear. Cordwainer stiffened and slipped hir hand from Jocia’s, moving it to her thigh. 

“I am so lucky I found you,” Cordwainer whispered.

“I was the lucky one.” She reached down and moved Cordwainer’s hand between her legs. Ze extended two fingers to massage between her legs, teasing her clitoris to erection. Jocia gasped and moved her lips across the fine bones of Cordwainer’s cheek, their lips gliding over each other without quite succumbing to a kiss. She flicked her tongue against hir lips and moaned as Cordwainer rubbed hir hand against Jocia’s stiffening sex.

“You are the harmony in my song,” Jocia whispered into the shell of Cordwainer’s ear. “My song is hollow without you.”

Cordwainer whimpered and kissed her. “Ladronis sentiments are so beautiful. Sing to me, Jocy.”

Jocia smiled and began removing Cordwainer’s clothes, laying her down as she began to sing her segment of the Great Chorus. It had changed since they found one another. Her segment was now one of love and fulfilment, someone who had found the person that completed them wholly. She pushed Cordwainer’s clothes from hir body and eased hir thighs apart. Cordwainer ran her hands over the top of Jocia’s head, eyes closed as hir lover explored with her lips and tongue. Jocia’s robes moved against hir inner thighs like tantalizing breezes. 

Jocia teased Cordwainer’s sex with her mouth, making the sensitive flesh wet before sitting up and gently repositioning hir. Cordwainer stretched out on the thin mattress and looked over hir shoulder as Jocia lay on top of her. Jocia kissed hir shoulder and dragged her bottom lip over the column of hir neck, moving up to the corner of hir mouth as she positioned her erect clitoris against Cordwainer’s entrance. As she pushed inside, the ship began to shudder around them. Cordwainer gasped, and Jocia put one hand on hir hip to keep her in place.

“We’re taking off,” she whispered, arching her back and pushing deeper inside. Cordwainer pushed back to meet her. Jocia bit her lip and used her weight to pin Cordwainer to the mattress. The thrum of the ship vibrated through the walls and the bedframe, sending a wave of vibrations through Cordwainer’s already sensitive body. Ze squirmed and reached back to grip Jocia’s hip, digging hir fingers in as Cordwainer began to thrust. 

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Cordwainer said, and Jocia complied. She dug her knees into the mattress as Cordwainer slipped a hand under hir body to tease hirself. 

“This is Captain Drayton.” The Acapsian woman’s voice echoed from a rusted speaker mounted near the door. The sound was fractured and tinny, and it drowned out the quiet moans Cordwainer was making. “We have disembarked from the Quay. Should any of you rethink your participation on this mission at any time, we have the means to send you back here to the station or another safe harbor. If we do manage to find the man we’re looking for--”

Jocia whispered, “I’m going to come.”

“Me too,” Cordwainer moaned.

“--will become a very dangerous place. I shall do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“Come for me, Jocy,” Cordwainer gasped, moving hir hand faster between hir legs.

Jocia groaned Cordwainer’s name and moved her hands to the middle of hir back, hips flush against the curve of her lover’s buttocks. The muscles of her abdomen tensed and hunched her shoulders as she spent her seed. Cordwainer came moments later, their moans of climax blending over the end of Captain Drayton’s speech. Jocia moved a hand around Cordwainer’s hip and covered hir hand with hers, rubbing the sensitive flesh as she kissed hir neck.

“It’s a Human custom to smash a bottle against the ship’s hull before a voyage.” Ze cleared her throat, cheek flat against the pillow. “For good luck.”

Jocia nuzzled hir hair. “I believe I like the Ladronis version better.”

“Mm.” Cordwainer found Jocia’s hand and brought it up to hir lips. Ze kissed them, tasting herself on them, sucking Jocia’s fingers as Jocia lazily settled on top of hir. “I’m glad the Admiral agreed to let me come along. I would have gone crazy on the Quay waiting for word from you.”

“I plan to be a very long distance from any danger, I assure you. Besides, I’m a pacifist.”

“I’m not certain the people we’re hunting will take that into account.” Ze rolled over, spreading hir legs so Jocia could lay between them. “Will you fight for your life?”

Jocia said, “I’ve never had to before. But if the time comes and I am called upon to fight to save your life, I will. I would kill to preserve your life, Cordwainer Littlefoot.”

“I would die to save yours.”

Jocia clucked her tongue. “My life afterward would not be worth living.”

Cordwainer linked their fingers. “Then let us both strive to make it through this trial, my love.”

“An excellent plan. But for the time being, our presence on the bridge would only be intrusive. So we should catch up with our rest.”

“Another excellent plan.” Ze guided Jocia’s head to her chest, kissing her forehead. “Sleep, my singer, and I will keep time with the Great Chorus.”

Jocia smiled and moved her head so she could hear Cordwainer’s heart beating as she fell asleep. It was a strong and steady drumbeat, providing enough rhythm for Jocia to hear the entirety of the universe’s song in its pounding. 

#

Upon departing the Quay, Valdis Paisian told Bauwerji that she should feel free to give the vessel a name that was easier for her to remember. She decided on _Adedoja_ , a Balanquin word that didn’t translate well into another language. It meant the sudden cessation of a sound you hadn’t been aware of hearing. It was one of her favorite words. It reminded her of nights during the Catarahh attacks, huddled in a cave. She’d taught herself to sleep through the endless shelling and distant explosions. One night, her back to a stone wall, her arms crossed over her chest to protect against the cold, all fighting stopped. Her eyes snapped open and she’d reached for a gun, certain that something had happened to her hearing. But the lookout, a grizzled opvoedor named Ejuphei, told her the fighting had stopped.

The peace was short-lived. In the morning they discovered the Catarahh were simply holding off until they could be resupplied. The sound of war was louder than ever when it resumed, but that lingering silence stuck with her. She never forgot how it felt to stand on the crumbling cliff over a vast desert and hear only the sounds of nature and wind. 

Her reverie was disturbed by the arrival of Min Paget. The reporter stepped through the hatch onto the bridge, and Bauwerji resisted the urge to sneer as the young Human stood beside her. Valdis had turned on a bank of viewscreens - unnecessary, since the nanoids that comprised her had direct feeds to those cameras - so they could see when they had cleared the debris field.

“Why doesn’t someone just clean this stuff out?” Min asked.

Bauwerji turned to look at her. “Clean it out? That’s... brilliant. That is a keen observation. We’ll get a crew on it immediately.”

“Apparently the Balanquin understand sarcasm...”

“Working with Humans, it was a necessary requirement.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Some of these pieces are too large to haul away, so they have to be scuttled. But they’re large enough to have the bodies of crewmembers trapped on board, so no one wants to destroy them until they’ve been searched. That takes time and effort, two things there isn’t a surplus of out here. 

“There are millions of tiny pieces that swirl around in between the larger chunks. We’ve managed to corral those into certain areas so people can get through, but getting close to the debris means you’re entering a minefield. No one wants their ships to be shredded in an attempt to recover corpses. It’s not viable or recommended.

“And thirdly, the pieces we can salvage can be used for cheap repairs at the Quay. It’s one of the reasons we’re so heavily trafficked. We’re convenient, and we have a junkyard within reach. If something is damaged or breaks down, there are enough wrecks out there for us to find a replacement bit with very little effort.” She looked at Min. “Are those enough reasons, or shall I continue?”

“No,” she grumbled. “My question has been answered.”

Bauwerji smiled brightly. “Great to hear it!” The smile collapsed as she faced forward again, dropping her hands to link them behind her back. “If you have any other pointless observations, ask Valdis or Nerea. They can dedicate entire swarms to your interrogation. I don’t have the luxury of disconnecting the portion that has to speak with you.”

Min scoffed and shook her head. “Goddamn. You know, I have a feeling you don’t like me.”

“It’s not that. I don’t know you well enough to dislike you. But I don’t plan on that changing any time soon.”

“So what is it? Humans? You think we’re beneath your attention?”

Bauwerji nearly let it go, but the opening was too good. “Yes, I do. Humans can be clever and they can show ingenuity, but on the whole, you’re an embarrassment of a race. You can barely be trusted to treat each other with respect, so what hope does a Balanquin have? You make hobby of ingesting poisons that are so fatal and so prevalent that you have to make laws restricting its use. And you _still_ use it. You are a self-destructive, capricious, unpredictable race who would choose a comforting lie to a protective truth. I look at you, Miss Paget, and I see a child from a race of children.”

Min grimaced. “Well. Without these ‘children,’ you wouldn’t have the Quay. So...”

“The Quay was completed thanks to Paisian and Acapsian input and technology. The Balanquin prevented the Cetidroi from blowing it to pieces.”

Min worked her hands into fists and tried to control her breathing. “We’re not janitors.”

Bauwerji wondered where that comparison had come from. “No, I never said you were. You’re the local animals that we didn’t bother to evict when we moved in.”

Min huffed. “Well, I’m sure the leaders of the Aphelion Project will love to know your stance.”

“I’m sure they will,” Bauwerji said. “But I don’t speak for my people. Hell, my people disown me. My views are my own.” She turned to face the journalist. “But know this. If your people decide to go it alone, they’ll find it a very solitary existence. If the Karezza don’t kick you off the station and take it for themselves, the Paisian will disable everything that makes the Quay habitable before they leave. You wouldn’t have the opportunity to begin a fight you would definitely lose, because you would be forced to scurry back to that pollution-ridden ghetto you call a planet with your tails tucked between your legs. How overpopulated is it now? Do you really think any country would take in a few hundred Human refugees arriving in one big flotilla?

“I’m not threatening you, Miss Paget. I’m just laying everything out for you. Your survival depends on our support. I don’t hold that against you. But that does not mean I have to like Humans. I will do my best to treat you as an individual and judge you based on your own merits. At the moment you are just another Human in my eyes. Hardly worth my time.”

Min said, “I’m sure Admiral Reshef would love to know your prejudice against her people.”

“She knows. And she is also an exception. She’s proven herself to be a smart, resourceful, capable officer. If she told me to step into space without a protective suit, I would trust that she knew what she was doing. Prove yourself to me and I’ll grant you the same benefit of the doubt.”

“So the Quay is a meritocracy.”

“As it should be. As everything should be.”

Min said, “You truly believe that?”

“Pelorum is a meritocracy. I would like it if the Quay was one as well, but you know how you Humans cling to their antiquated ideas.”

“Well. I suppose the only thing I can do is try to get into your good graces.” 

“You can start by questioning the officers I brought with me.”

“Where are they?”

“Not in this room.”

Min took a deep breath. “It’s good to know bitchiness isn’t solely a Human trait.”

Bauwerji smiled without humor. “No. But damned if you haven’t tried to perfect it. Goodbye, Miss Paget.”

Min looked as if she was about to say something else, but decided against it. Instead she turned and left the bridge.

Bauwerji sighed, her posture relaxing. 

Nerea smiled. “You could have given the child a break.”

“What would that have accomplished? Treating her as I did means that she’ll be trying twice as hard to impress me. She’ll be doubly sure that she won’t make an idiotic neophyte mistake. That’s all I want from her on this mission.”

Nerea shook her head in amusement. “Creatures like you would never be able to exist as a swarm.”

“Thank God. Millions of my neighbors knowing my secrets and innermost thoughts? I’d rather kill myself.”

Nerea looked at Valdis, but neither Paisian said anything.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Eleven**  
The _Adedoja_ arrived in orbit around Tunzha one hour before the attackers were due to arrive, based on Barrien’s hypothesis. Karakoz was the largest city on the planet’s smallest landmass, an island shaped like a palm frond in the eastern ocean. _Sastruga_ and the Paisian ship would remain out of sight by the planet’s moon so as not to draw attention to itself, and so Valdis could continue to scan the solar system for the other ship’s arrival. Valdis had contacted the town’s leader with their concerns, but he dismissed it as unnecessary fearmongering. He wasn’t going to evacuate a town of thousands just because some Paisian said someone _might_ attack. 

Bauwerji knew that if their adversary did choose Karakoz as their next target, they would likely follow the same pattern as before: five ships sent to the surface, a quick search for the man with the rock, then burn everything to the ground before they moved on to the next planet. She admitted that the lack of Vacik theaters was a thin thread to follow, but at the moment it was all they had. She knew Cicero was looking for the man with the _Sastruga_ , and between them she hoped it would be enough to find the most important man in the universe.

She selected a group of soldiers to accompany her to the planet: three Acapsian, two Humans, and a Paisian. She asked Dr. Littlefoot to join them on the excursion just in case they stumbled across the rock, and the Human doctor took a short-range shuttle from the smuggler ship to the much-larger vessel. It was a lot of effort just to get one person onboard, but she felt it was worth the effort. If they were required to bring the stone back, she wanted it packed by someone who knew what they were doing.

Cordwainer secured hirself in the shuttle next to Bauwerji. “Are you going to be okay here?”

Bauwerji looked sideways at hir. “I’ve gone on this sort of mission before.”

“Yes. But this time you’ll be walking into the lion’s den. A Karezza planet. I know you deal with them all the time at the Quay, but this is their turf. There are millions of them here.”

“It doesn’t concern me. I’m here to protect these people if I can. Besides, they aren’t the people who are taking over my planet, so I have no beef with them.”

Cordwainer said, “Good. I’m glad.”

The shuttle had to disconnect from the larger vessel’s artificial gravity in order to take off. First they were pressed back into their seats, and then their arms and legs drifted away from their seats. Bauwerji checked over her shoulder to make sure all the officers had properly secured themselves as well. Cordwainer reached up and tugged the straps that crossed hir chest. 

“You’re nervous about _you_ ,” Bauwerji said.

“What?”

“Have you ever been this far from Earth before?”

Cordwainer said, “I’ve... yes. I took a tour of the neighborhood about a year after I arrived on the Quay.”

Bauwerji graced the doctor with a rare smile. “Did you ever leave the ship?”

“I, uh... it was the rainy season on Acapsia. And Ladrona is... it’s just...” Ze shook hir head. “No. I never left the ship.”

Bauwerji laughed and reached over to take Cordwainer’s hand. “It’s going to be fine. It’s just like the Quay, but with fewer uniforms and more Karezza faces.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. If you get overwhelmed, find me and stay by my side. I’ll get you through.”

Cordwainer stared at her. “I appreciate that very much, Bowery. But why are you doing this? We’re... friendly. But I don’t think we’re friends. Are we?”

“Not as such. But I like you more than I like most people. And you got a Ladronis to fall in love with you. You must be something pretty special.”

Cordwainer smiled and relaxed against her seat. “I don’t know. But I try to be.”

The trip from the planet’s moon to the surface took a little over forty-five minutes. Bauwerji released Cordwainer’s hand so she could bring up a map of Karakoz on her screen. The docks were on the northern side of town, with people-carrier tracks branching out in every direction like veins to a heart. Karakoz, like the other cities hit by the faceless attackers, was almost entirely populated by criminals. She figured at least two-thirds of the ships in port were carrying stolen or illegally-appropriated designation numbers. When they requested permission to land, their Paisian captain gave authentic ID but was probably believed to be lying by the port authorities. It didn’t affect their clearance, however; the law didn’t matter as much as the money brought in by their criminal enterprises. A constable could do his job and get killed for his trouble, or he could take a bribe and become rich. Many constables in places like this didn’t even consider it a choice.

The city had grown up like mold around a large river and its three tributaries, the mass of buildings sprawling in tight clusters over the gray-green land. Their shuttle landed at the docks, and Bauwerji covered her Aphelion Project uniform with the drab orange shifts that was in fashion on Karezza planets. She added a red-and-black checkered scarf that she could double as a shawl, pulling the wide end up over her head and ducking her chin behind it. She might not have any issues strolling around a Karezza planet, but a lot of them saw Balanquin as lower-caste creatures. She’d rather avoid any unnecessary distractions while they were on business.

Cordwainer also donned a scarf that would hide hir face. Karezza liked Humans just fine, but ze was fine-featured and appeared frail. The Karezza were known to treat people weaker than them like novelties, and sometimes their games resulted in bruises and broken bones for their unwitting playmate. The shawl and scarf helped bulk hir up a little so she looked sturdier at first glance. Bauwerji checked to make sure everyone else was suitably attired, then opened the hatch and led them out.

“Valdis will contact us if a _yahri_ -class ship enters the system. Baardwik, Marinos, you stay here. If five shuttles come down, report to me and follow them.”

The officers nodded and moved to take positions where they wouldn’t be obvious. Bauwerji led the remaining group out of the docks and onto a street crowded by vendors and a flood of men and women of every color and race trying to remain inconspicuous. Bauwerji had a small stunner tucked under her shawl, well within reach, in case it became necessary. 

“Do we have any idea what we’re searching for?” Cordwainer asked.

“The same thing our opponent is searching for.”

Cordwainer chuckled. “So we’re trying to think like people we can’t identify to find someone we’ve never seen before.”

“That’s about the long and short of it, yes.”

“Should be a breeze.”

Bauwerji said, “If those ships arrive, we’ll be able to track behind them. Does Earth have chenchurus? Small heads, big heavy arms with claws on the end?” Cordwainer shook hir head. “They’re blind beyond three feet in front of their faces so they’re not very good at hunting. But they have a wide reach and they’re fast. They feel vibrations from other animals in the ground, so they wait for something big and predatory to walk by. Then they just follow along behind it until it finds something to eat, and it uses its big arms to steal the prey.”

“So that’s what we’re doing? Waiting to follow someone else to our goal?”

Bauwerji nodded and held up a hand to stop their progress. Cicero had given her a few tips, the first of which was that smugglers didn’t like to go far if they were carrying stolen goods. That meant the best place to ask if anyone had been in to sell a rock would be right near the docks. 

Twin alleys stretched out to Bauwerji’s left and right, covered passageways that broke off into open-air taverns. Every table was filled with people hunched over their drinks or otherwise engaged in furtive conversation. Bauwerji split up the crew, sending one to the right while she led her group down the leftward alley. Humans would have called it ‘the sinister’ choice, a moniker she had little trouble believing at the moment.

Almost immediately after leaving the main drag, someone pressed against her side. He was Karezza, wall-eyed and string-haired. His skin was pockmarked and ashen enough that she could see a tracing of veins through his cheeks. “Hey, pretty lady. Want to live in someone else’s skin? Want to see what it’s like through Acapsian eyes? Huh? How about it? The pill is cheap but the experience is priceless.”

“Maybe another time.” 

His focus sharpened as he took note of her heavy brow and the color of her skin. “Hey. You’re Balanquin. Pretty little Balanquin. You want to make real money? Couple hours of your time, feel real good for you. Lots of Karezza willing to pay for Sensuite vids of pretty Balanquin girls. What do you say, you want to get fuc--”

Before Bauwerji could clear her weapon to shoot the man in his face, breaking their cover, his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head. His knees turned toward each other and Bauwerji had to grab him to keep him from collapsing into her. She stared at his now-slack face and then saw Cordwainer was holding a small jet injector. 

“Neurorelaxant. It’ll give his brain a much-needed rest, and he’ll be good as new - which isn’t saying much - in about twelve hours.”

Bauwerji said, “I changed my mind, Dr. Littlefoot. _You_ protect _me_ from here on out.”

Cordwainer smiled and helped Bauwerji move the smut peddler to a horizontal surface along the edge of one building. Cordwainer took an extra moment to arrange his clothes so it looked as if he had just fallen asleep while Bauwerji looked to see if anyone had noticed their altercation. She’d heard about the Sensuites he mentioned, of course. Karezza on the home front were jealous of their kin living on Pelorum. Not because of the adventure or thrill of living on another planet, but because those soldiers were able to rape any Balanquin citizen they wanted. So some of them recorded Sensuites of the experience and sent it back to Karezz. Those types of vids were, of course, wildly illegal. But there was little to be done to stem the tide of them.

“Lovely gentlemen,” Cordwainer said. “Are you all right?”

“Let’s just keep looking.”

They moved on through the crowd. No one seemed to notice or care that one of their own had just fallen unconscious in the middle of the street, but Bauwerji doubted it was an uncommon sight on these streets. A con man, a thief, a smuggler... if he got knocked out, most people assumed he had it coming and minded their own business. Bauwerji moved on, and soon the vidirector was out of sight and out of mind. She spotted a tavern with a healthy number of Acapsian inside, so she sent the Acapsian officer inside to inquire about their rock-seller.

“Officer Crow.”

The voice startled her enough that she reached for her weapon again, but she recognized Valdis Paisian’s voice. “How the hell are you... oh, dedevosjej vai q’am.” She reached up and felt around the curve of her ear. As expected she felt a small metallic structure attached to the lobe. It was a piece of the Paisian captain stowing away on her flesh. She shuddered violently at the idea of carrying a spy around on her body.

“I am well aware of what those words mean, Officer Crow, and I am quite offended.”

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t...” She was trembling with rage. “Do not violate my body like that again, am I clear?”

“Extraordinarily. I apologize for the intrusion.” The swarm lifted off her ear and buzzed toward Cordwainer. The doctor had been watching Bauwerji with concern, but then she clapped a hand over her ear and gasped in surprise.

“Quell! Oh... Captain. I... yes.” She looked at Bauwerji. “Of course.”

Bauwerji reached up to massage her ear, wishing she could wash it.

“Captain Valdis said that a _yahri_ -class vessel has just been spotted entering this sector. There’s every reason to believe it’s the one we’re looking for.”

The violation almost forgotten, Bauwerji contacted their officers at the dock so they would be at attention. She also called back the men she had out searching. There was no need to run themselves ragged when their adversary seemed to have a solid search plan of their own. They’d let someone else do the hard work, like the chenchurus, hiding in the shadows and waiting for the opportune moment to strike. 

Cordwainer cleared hir throat. “Captain Valdis wanted to know if you accepted her apology.”

“Tell her no. And if she does it again, I’ll take whatever nanoids she’s stuck on my fucking body and smash them to fine powder.”

Cordwainer hesitated before she relayed the threat. “She understands.”

“She’d better.” She looked into the nearest bar and realized there was only one way to guarantee their path crossed with the hunters, only one way to guarantee Karakoz didn’t get destroyed like the other cities. She unwrapped her face, stuffed her scarf into one of the pockets of her smock, and revealed her face to the crowd.

“Bowery,” Cordwainer said, “are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Rarely,” she admitted. One person had already noticed her before the pathetic attempt to disguise herself. Now other eyes were turning her way. “Find me a rock. Anything that looks like it could be spacefall. Treat it like it’s the most valuable thing you’ve ever held.”

“Wait!”

She ignored Cordwainer’s attempt to hold her back and stepped into the tavern. She walked up to the bar and rapped her knuckles on the wood. The barkeep was Occamian, with large brown eyes, a smashed-in snout, and a fringe of yellow-orange hair framing its unlovely features. It looked at her, looked at the Karezza getting drunk beside her, and tilted its head back and forth in a gesture of disbelief.

“You are the either brave or drunk most seen here night,” it chattered. It was unclear if Occamian language was too complex for the translators, if they’d never been properly calibrated because Camia never joined Aphelion, or if Occamians were simply not trying to speak properly. Either way, it was a pain in her ti’q to converse with them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bauwerji said. “I have something I need to sell and this is where I can find business. Give me a tall glass of khovehm.”

Even those who had been pretending to ignore her gave up the ruse at that.

The Occamian blinked twice. “Recommended lesser of the drink.”

“Just give me the ale.” She put down two coins that would cover the cost. “And if anyone comes in looking for spacefall, let them know I have a rock I’m willing to sell.”

“Spacefall rock,” the Occamian said as he poured her drink.

She took her glass. “I’ll be in the backroom if anyone comes looking. Spread the word.” She looked at the Karezza next to her and held eye contact as she took a long drink from her glass. The khovehm was a Karezz drink known for its extreme potency. No race flying could stomach more than a few sips. Bauwerji allowed herself the smallest of squints as her mouth was filled with the thick and pungent sauce. She forced herself to swallow the first mouthful and the rest went easily. She’d once survived by cupping muddy and brackish water out of a runoff drain. It was just a matter of willpower. Anything that didn’t have twigs in it and a rust aftertaste was the finest of wines in her opinion.

“Keep the bottle handy,” she said as she pushed away from the bar and weaved toward the back room. She almost made it before a Karezza patron grabbed her just above the elbow. “Release.”

“Why such a hurry?” he said. “Pretty Balanquin like you can take the hardest Karezza liquor. What else do you like that’s hard and Karezza?”

She turned and puffed herself up, but she still barely reached his chin. “The last Karezza who put his hands on me found himself brainless and leaking blood on the floor of my hangar. I don’t anticipate killing another one of you owl-faced pricks, but after a murder, mutilation seems like a much smaller crime. So either take your hand off of me, or I’ll take it off of you.”

He held on for another moment just to prove his own machismo, then released her with a flourish. “My mistake. I heard you had something to sell.”

“You couldn’t afford what I’m offering.”

He grinned. “Karezza don’t pay Balanquin. We just take. Remember that, pretty lady.”

She sipped her drink and continued through the crowd. She had found an empty table by the time Cordwainer found her. Ze lifted the hem of hir shawl to reveal a piece of masonry about two feet long. 

“Will this do?”

“It’s fine. Thank you, Doctor.” She took the stone and tucked it between her and the wall as she slid into the shell-shaped booth. Cordwainer sat across from her. “Where are the officers that came with us?”

“Standing guard on the door. They were setting up a relay alert system so we’ll know every step of the searchers from the moment they leave the dock.”

“Excellent. Do you still have the Paisian in your ear?”

Cordwainer winced and reached up to touch hir ear. “I do. While I admit, it’s a touch unsettling... I don’t think it merits your reaction.”

Bauwerji took a long drink, held it in her mouth, and swallowed before speaking. She looked out over the sea of Karezza faces surrounding them. “When the Karezza took over Pelorum, they set themselves up as our superiors. Just to help us get back on our feet. Their leaders may have had the best of intentions, but the people who took over simply saw us as... drudgers. People they could treat as less than people. We were little more than animals in their eyes. But apparently that was all they needed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they raped us. Every chance they got. A few of us complained when it first started, but those people were quickly and quietly let go from their jobs. They had to find another Karezza who would hire them, but by that point they’d been proven to be troublemakers. You either learned to live with it or you found a way to live without working. I decided I would rather have a cock in my mouth every once in a while than risk living on the fringes again. But that doesn’t mean I consented.”

“No, of course not,” Cordwainer said softly. “Bow... Bauwerji. I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

“We don’t really broadcast it. Admiral Reshef knows. That’s why she’s so fiercely protective of me. I owe her everything. It would have been so much easier for her to turn me over when the Karezza showed up looking for me. Aphelion values their friendship more than the Balanquin. But she stood up for me.”

“The Karezza made you a fugitive because you were raped?”

“Oh. No, because I killed my rapist before I fled the planet.”

Cordwainer’s eyes widened. “Oh. I see.”

Bauwerji smiled ruefully. “So...” She held up the half-empty glass. “This is far from the least-enticing thing from Karezz I’ve ever put into my mouth. At least this time it’s my choice.”

“Now that I have all the information, I’m surprised your reaction wasn’t more pronounced.”

“The day isn’t over yet. When it’s time to go back to the Quay, I might hitch a ride with Cicero instead of the Pissants.”

Cordwainer said, “I think that depends on how this meeting goes. There’s every possibility whoever these men are will force you to go with them.”

“I hope they do. That way I can get a look at who we’re dealing with. Whoever is scouring the town are just the foot soldiers. I want the person responsible for wiping out two entire cities just because they didn’t get what they wanted.”

Cordwainer suddenly looked toward the door. “They’re almost here. Our men had to leave their post just in case they were recognized as Aphelion. I should probably go, too.” Ze took off hir satchel and passed it across the table. “There’s a biohazard containment shell in there. The stone will fit. I wish you good fortune.”

“Thanks, Cordwainer.”

“I hope to see you soon, Bauwerji.”

Ze left and blended into the crowd. Bauwerji put the stone into the shell, and then finished her drink while waiting for the men to make their way over to her table. Four men finally broke through the crowd and approached her table. 

She feigned indifference to their arrival and took a moment to examine them. No uniforms, just a matchmix of styles from several cultures. The men themselves were Irikoan, and their skin color indicated they were from their planet’s equatorial Iloria Provinces. Bauwerji knew it as a region poor in everything but people. They lacked education, culture, money, or any natural resources. When their brothers in another, richer province developed space flight, the Iloria Provinces benefited as well. They were the bratty kid sister of the universe, derided even more than Humans. At least the Humans managed to get to the edge of their solar system on their own.

Irikoan were leather-skinned, green-eyed, entitled assholes, and Bauwerji was irritated to discover they were at the center of this mess. But she set her face in an expression of indifference as the men formed a wall between her and the rest of the room. The taller man, presumably their leader, took the seat Cordwainer had just vacated across from Bauwerji.

“Hier bir cheqkes rengingen henmi’pin...”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Either turn on your translator or speak a language I know.” She ticked them off on her hand. “Inglis, Hindi, quinlitz, chelseet, hal’latch.”

When he spoke again, it was broken quinlitz. “A Balanquin in a Karezz bar. Are any of your holes not sore right now?”

Bauwerji lifted her foot and slammed it between his legs. He dropped his hands flat to the table and she splashed the dregs of her alcohol in his face. When his men moved forward to defend him, Bauwerji drew her gun and leveled it at them.

“Take another step and I’ll give you some very sore holes.”

“Leave her be, boys,” the leader grunted. He reached down and adjusted his injured area, glaring at her the entire time. His eyes were framed by a semicircle of small bone protrusions that looked like he’d broken a window with his face. “I hear that you’re looking to sell a stone. Spacefall.”

Bauwerji said, “If the price is right and if I like the buyers.” She looked at the other men. “I have to say, I’m not liking your chances of a discount.”

“Then let us become friends. I am Othieno. This is Juma, Masilo, and Melesse. Our employers have been looking for a certain piece of spacefall for quite some time now. We were told it was with a male merchant, however.”

Bauwerji snorted. “Probably the piece of el’kahe I took it off of just outside of Taplinid. Hey, did you hear about what happened to that place? I was fresh out of port when I heard it was ashes. I had to check my ass to make sure there weren’t any scorch marks.”

“Wish I’d been there to check for you,” Othieno said.

Bauwerji pushed her foot harder against his crotch. He grunted and gripped the edge of the table. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know much about Irikoan biology. There was a chance that he was getting off on what she was doing. She grimaced at the thought.

“The fact is, I have the rock. I hear a bunch of people are going around looking for it, so I’ll plonk myself down somewhere and wait for them to show up. And here you are. Why else would a Balanquin willingly pull a beer in a Karezza tavern?”

Othieno shrugged. “Do you have the stone on you?”

Bauwerji smiled. “I’m not dealing with a bunch of Irikoan thugs. If the person that hired you wants this rock, they can meet me in person.”

“Our employer is not the kind of person who would skillfully blend in here.”

“Then take me there.”

Othieno laughed.

Bauwerji leaned forward. “Whatever you want the rock for, it’s valuable enough to destroy two cities. What were the populations of those cities? A few hundred thousand? A couple of million once you add in visitors and crews. If it’s worth becoming a genocidal marauder then it’s worth risking me. Come on. You can handle one wild Balanquin running around your ship. Haven’t you destroyed enough cities?”

Othieno reached up and dragged his fingers around his bony fringe. “Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to have this place destroyed just on principle? A few less Karezza in the sky...”

The offer was tempting, but she wasn’t a maniac. “I think the less fuss we make, the better. This rock has all kinds of attention focused on it already.”

“Te’chooem m’a.”

Bauwerji knew it was an Irikoan phrase that basically meant ‘you have made an unusual decision but I have no choice but to concede.’ He pushed himself up, and Bauwerji slung the satchel over her shoulder. The stone pressed against the leather wall and rested heavily against her hip. The Irikoan moved aside to let her through, but she only smiled.

“Nice try, gentlemen. I’m not turning my back on any of you. Lead the way, Othieno.”

He smiled and motioned for his men to leave first. Bauwerji waited until there was an arms-reach gap between her and Othieno before she followed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Twelve**  
Cordwainer watched from a distance as Bauwerji met with the Irikoan men, quietly relaying the situation to Valdis. Though the Paisian captain assured hir that she could see everything with the nanoid sensors, Cordwainer found it comforting to give commentary. It made her feel useful when otherwise she would just be a carrier for the swarm. When the group got up and began moving toward the exit, Valdis suggested using the nanoids to follow them. 

“No. By no means should you reattach to Bowery. I won’t allow it.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Dr. Littlefoot. I can attach to one of the Irikoan uniforms just as easily.” The swarm lifted off Cordwainer’s ear and rose toward the ceiling of the tavern, moving through the haze gathered there before descending on one man’s shoulder as lightly as dust falling from a rafter. Despite its small size, Bauwerji noticed the nanoids and looked toward Cordwainer. Ze nodded and Bauwerji did the same before turning away from her. In another moment, the Balanquin officer and her leather-faced escorts had passed out of sight.

Cordwainer touched hir ear. “Officer Crow is leaving the tavern now. Presumably she’d heading toward the docks, being escorted by four Irikoan men.”

“Acknowledged, Doctor. We have them in sight now.”

Cordwainer abandoned hir stool and moved to follow Bauwerji, but a broad Karezza man stepped in hir way. “Where are you going, little Human? My friends and I have a bet on whether you’re a malekind or a femalekind.”

“You lose,” Cordwainer said. “Kindly move out of my way.”

The Karezza put his hand on Cordwainer’s shoulder to keep hir from moving, and his other hand moved toward hir waist. “It’ll be quick. And I can make it fun, no matter what I find.”

Cordwainer reached for the jet injector ze’d used on the vidirector, but someone grabbed hir arm before ze could get into the pocket. A second Karezza crowded hir from behind as the first stepped forward to pin hir between them.

“It’ll be quick and fun, I promise,” the first one said. “At least my turn will be.”

Cordwainer recalled what ze knew about Karezza anatomy. There was a pouch just underneath their ribs where chyme and digestive fluid accumulated before moving on through the digestive system. Ze turned hir left hand sideways and cut it hard against the Karezza man’s side. Ze felt the sac burst under his skin even before he grabbed his side and backpedaled against the bar. Cordwainer jabbed hir elbow back and did the same thing to his friend. Both men bent in half and clutched their stomachs.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” ze said, “but I’m afraid you’ll be too busy finding a medic to party this evening. The acid currently flooding your abdomen is quite corrosive. It’s not fatal for another few minutes.”

The first man grimaced and, despite his obvious pain, reached for hir again. Cordwainer grabbed the nearest mug from the bar and smashed it over his face. 

“I could have stunned you, but that would have prevented you from seeking medical attention. The choice is yours. I won’t be a murderer, but you can choose to let yourself die. Decide if your life is worth saving.” Ze looked to make sure his friend was staying down, then slipped through a crowd that suddenly parted to allow hir through. 

Outside ze tried to find Bauwerji in the crowd, but ze’d lost too much time dealing with the _mevad’rs_. Ze tried to remember the names of the officers they had come to the surface with, but none of them came to mind. “This is Dr. Littlefoot. Who has eyes on Officer Crow?”

“Yeoman Tegene. I just spotted Officer Crow entering the docks. Should I pursue?”

“Is anyone in place near the target’s shuttles?” Cordwainer tried to be inconspicuous about hir conversation as ze moved through the crowd, but a few people did give hir odd looks when ze pushed by them. 

“We have people watching them, yes, Ser.”

“Then stay where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Ze felt something touch hir ear, and Valdis spoke before ze could swipe it away. “Captain Drayton has been alerted to the events on the surface. She is prepared to pursue the _yahri_ -class ship when it departs. The _Sastruga_ will be far less conspicuous than our vessel.”

Cordwainer hesitated. “Right. Of course. Tell Jocia... ah, Ephor Wison... to be safe.”

“Your message has been conveyed.”

Ze didn’t like the idea of being separated, but there was no way to avoid it. Ze knew it was a possibility when ze agreed to join Bauwerji on the surface, but that didn’t mean ze had to like it. When ze arrived at the docks, one of Aphelion Project’s officers revealed the five _yahri_ -class shuttles were already cleared for liftoff. The other officers had been called back so they could ship out as soon as the coast was clear. Cordwainer watched as the five vessels lifted into the air, spun themselves counter-clockwise, and then began lifting up toward the clouds at a sharp angle.

“We saved this town from being destroyed... at least we can console ourselves with that.”

One of the officers spoke, and ze recognized his voice as Yeoman Tegene. “Will we be pursuing them, Ser?”

Ze realized with Bauwerji’s departure, ze was now the highest ranking officer present. “No. _Sastruga_ will follow them. We’ll return to the _Adedoja_. We’ll continue searching for the real stone while Bauwerji keeps the attackers distracted. We will give them time to get back to their ship before we depart.” The shuttles passed through a bank of clouds and disappeared from sight. Ze thought ze’d been handling it well, the anxiety of being so far from the Quay. Jocia was one of the reasons it was so easy. But now that they were separated, ze felt more alone than ever. Ze didn’t have Jocia, and ze didn’t have Bauwerji to watch out for hir, and ze felt more alone than she had in a very long time. 

“Brightening day,” ze whispered, quoting an ancient Ladronis blessing, “and soothing waters upon your shore. Be safe, Jocy.”

#

 _Yahri_ -class vessels were literally junk, refuse haulers that once carted trash from planets to the outer systems to be destroyed. When it became far easier to disassemble and reuse the component parts than just throwing things away, the fleet itself became the only trash left to haul. They became the preferred transport for those who couldn’t afford better or faster ships. Jocia had moved onto the bridge so she could be closer to any reports that came from the surface. She knew Cordwainer could take care of hirself if push came to shove, and she’d never had any reason to personally fear the Karezza, but she knew they had a reputation.

The Paisian ship was currently hiding behind the moon, and the _Sastruga_ was hanging idle in its shadow. Captain Drayton piggybacked their weaker sensors on the Paisian systems so she could get a look at the enemy vessel. The details appeared on a dark screen inset on the wall, and Cicero braced her hands on either side of the display as she read it. Eventually she started shaking her head and drumming her fingers on the wall.

“It’s a disaster waiting to happen. The moment they push the engines an inch too far, it’ll fail on them. They’ll be stranded between systems. And look...” She tapped the screen, talking to herself more than anyone on the bridge. “See these energy signatures on the leeward hull? Atmo leakage. They have their systems working overtime because they’re venting half their life support out the sides. It’s unfathomable that this ship is responsible for so much loss of life.”

“That is alarming,” Jocia said.

“Hell yes it is. If I went out with a ship this shoddy, I’d be strung up for reckless endangerment of my crew. No one would fly with me, and there’s no way I’d deserve their loyalty.”

“It’s alarming that such a mediocre ship is responsible for so much loss of life.”

Cicero had to concede the point. The display pinged, and she tapped the screen to read the alert. “The shuttles have broken atmosphere. The ship is moving to intercept them.” She ran her fingers across the console. “I’m reading ten Irikoan life signs and one Balanquin.”

“Human?” Jocia asked.

“It seems Dr. Littlefoot remained on the surface.”

“What happens now?”

“We wait until the _yahri_ vessel departs and we go after it. The doctor is with officers from Aphelion, so ze’ll get a ride home from the Paisian ship.” Cicero looked at her. “I’m sure ze’ll be fine. The danger has passed for her.”

Jocia nodded. Her lover was alone on the surface of a Karezza planet, in one of their most lawless towns, surrounded by strangers. Surely there was no reason to be frightened. But she knew Bauwerji was the one in true danger.

“I am sure Officer Crow will be fine as well. She is more than capable, even on a ship as dangerous as that one.”

Cicero smiled. “I appreciate that.” She move to her command chair and settled into it. “There’s room here if you want to stick around.”

“No. No, I think I would handle things better if I were in my quarters.”

“Okay. I’ll call you if the Paisian send any messages about Dr. Littlefoot.”

Jocia bowed her thanks and gathered her robes around herself. She looked at the screens once more before politely excusing herself. The corridors of the _Sastruga_ were narrow and winding, and she distracted herself by focusing wholly on the journey. She nodded politely to anyone she passed but she kept her head down so her train of thought would be unbroken. When she was back in the rooms she shared with Cordwainer, she took the sheets and blanket off the bed and moved them to the washbasin. She ran the water so that it pooled in the cloth where they had coupled, holding her hands under the water so it would run over her fingers.

“We are all parts of the Great Chorus,” she whispered. “Our hearts beat its rhythm, our blood whispers the tune, and our breath carries it into the empty air. The song echoes in every curve of every world. We are all notes in a song that began long before we were born and will continue long after we return to dust. Cordwainer Littlefoot is a precious note in your song. Ze is... a fleeting whisper of a note, and ze lingers in your mind long after the echo has faded. Ze is gentle and flowing, and hir melody is relentless. Ze is calming and bright.” She laughed and her voice cracked. “I loved the song before I met hir, but I never truly heard it until I put my head to hir chest and listened to its harmony. The Great Chorus is stronger with hir in it. Protect hir. Keep hir in your song. Of this I beg you, and for this I sing.” 

She cupped her hands under the water and brought them to her mouth, tipping the water over her lips. She kept her eyes closed and held the water in her mouth, curling her tongue around it as she began to hum. She sank onto her knees and crossed her arms over her chest, hands on her shoulders, rocking forward and back as she prayed for Cordwainer’s safety.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Thirteen**  
Bauwerji shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The shuttle was a cramped six-seater, and she was squeezed in the back bench seat between the Irikoans named Juma and Masilo. At such close proximity it was all but impossible to ignore their odor; their kind didn’t sweat, but they exuded their excess heat through their mouths. That led to mouth-breathing, which quickly had her wishing for a hull breach just for the blessed vacuum. She held her satchel in her lap and watched the screens as they approached the gaping maw of the _yahri_ -class ship that had caused so much destruction in the past few days.

“You guys really know how to travel in style.”

Othieno shrugged from the front seat. “We use what we need. Why be flashy?”

The shuttle landed roughly, and one of the Irikoan grabbed Bauwerji’s arm hard enough to bruise it. She smothered the instinct to break his nose, telling herself he was only trying to help even as she peeled his thick fingers off of her. They had to wait for the other four shuttles to land, then the deck had to be repressurized before the doors could open. Once again she let the men leave first before she rose from her seat and joined them in the hangar. The other shuttles were unloading as well, and she felt a twinge of anxiety being surrounded by so many Irikoan.

“I suppose you want to deliver the package yourself.”

Bauwerji smiled and gestured for him to lead the way. He sighed and dismissed his men, gestured for her to follow, and led her to a surprisingly-modern lift. 

“You guys have gone to a lot of trouble to get this rock,” Bauwerji said. “What’s so special about it?”

“You don’t know? You were willing to steal it.”

She shrugged. “I’m smart enough to know when something is a hot commodity. Knowing someone wants a thing and knowing what makes that thing important are very different pieces of information. I have one... want to give me the other?”

“You’re Balanquin,” he said. “Does that mean you believe in _abjijet seri_? The Heavens and the Earth conversed, thunder roared and the land shuddered, an argument between the two great beings resulting in life bursting forth to silence them?”

She stepped into the lift and let him shut the door. “I’m a Balanquin who fought for a decade against people who sucker punched us by destroying half our military with their first strike. We were rescued by people who took over every facet of our daily lives and proceeded to turn us into slave labor in our own homes. I don’t tend to give religion much thought one way or the other.”

He smirked. “Irikoan believe that life began as an accident, and we should simply enjoy the miracle. Looking for meaning or depth is just a waste of time.”

“No responsibility or purpose. That sounds like a very Irikoan belief system.”

“Well, whatever you believe, that rock you’re carrying will show all these silly myths are barely worth the stones they’re carved into. We’re all just junk, trash left behind after some explosion.”

“The cenancestor,” Bauwerji said. “I’ve heard that theory. There was a race out here in the cosmos somewhere, they got blown up, but their DNA got left behind on the shrapnel of their planet. Those rocks ended up flying through space until they landed on Ladrona, Pelorum, Earth, Okoan... then evolution took over. So we’re all cousins.”

He nodded. “Basically so. That rock is the base for every race we’ve ever encountered. Probably some we haven’t.”

“What about the Paisian?”

Othieno laughed. “Who knows where the Puzzlemen came from? They were probably here when God was still shedding his first skin.”

They arrived at the command deck, a wide amphitheater with only a handful of consoles to fill the space. In the center of the room was a raised platform bearing a long couch curved to follow the contour of the room. A woman was sitting in the center of the couch, her arms draped over the back and her legs casually crossed. She wore a body-hugging white suit underneath a red jacket. Her skin was the most startling thing about her; it was a very pale purple, darkening around eyes that were almost white. Her hair was shaved on the sides and gathered into a single braid running down the center of her skull. Bauwerji nearly forgot about her cover and her entire reason for being aboard the ship.

She didn’t recognize the woman’s race.

As an officer on the Quay, even the minor races passed through once or twice per season. Aphelion Project members made up the majority of the permanent staff, but with smugglers and pirates and private convoys, cruises, she thought she’d seen every race capable of space flight. But none of them matched this woman’s coloring. Her hands were oddly shaped, with long curved digits on either side of the palm. When she stood, she towered over Bauwerji even after she stepped off the platform.

“Balanquin. I don’t believe I’ve seen a Balanquin before, not in the flesh. Your skin is gorgeous.”

“Thanks. Yours... is nice, too...”

The woman lifted her chin and twisted her head to the side, then spread her lips into an awkward smile. “I’ve heard this is a gesture of friendliness and peace with you. Our kind consider it a threat. I do not want you to feel threatened, Balanquin. This should be a very peaceful first encounter.”

“I’m not threatened,” Bauwerji said. “So... since you bring it up... what the hell are you?”

“Wakerran. You’ve never seen my kind, and likely you’ve never heard of us, either. But we’re making a comeback. We found these lovely creatures willing to help us. They had ships and we rewarded them very well for their assistance. I am the Socigines.”

Bauwerji said, “That’s your name?”

“It’s how I am referenced.”

“Okay. Bauwerji Crow. Apparently I have something you’ve been looking for.”

The whites of her eyes flared pink and lavender. “The stone. Yes. You have it with you?”

Bauwerji patted her satchel. “I think it’s time to discuss my price.”

The Socigines glanced at her men. “You promised her payment.”

“It’s kind of how things are done in this section of space, ai?” Bauwerji said. 

“How unfortunate. Misunderstanding. We do not wish to exchange currency for what you have. We want it. We will take it. And then we will do away with you the same way we destroyed those who didn’t give us what we wanted.”

Bauwerji said, “That’s kind of what I was afraid of. See, I figured you weren’t exactly looking for a fair deal, considering all the people you killed just to get to this point. What’s one more Balanquin corpse if you can get your way? That’s why this...” She opened her pack and took out the shell. “This is just a piece of masonry from the planet we just left.” 

The Socigines’ eyes flashed to a deeper purple as Bauwerji opened the case and let the rock fall to the floor. The impact knocked loose a scree of loose pebbles that scattered across the floor. 

“Imbeciles!” the Socigines growled, her serene expression cracking as she stared at the stone. “You didn’t bother to verify her claims?” She turned her eyes on Bauwerji. “I should kill you were you stand for this.”

“As far as I can tell, there’s nothing stopping you. Except... well... you might want to do a scan for life forms in this room.”

The Socigines stared at her for a moment as if trying to decide if it was a bluff. Finally she walked to the nearest console. “Authorization cyiaia. Scan this room and verify lifeforms present. How many people are here?”

“Four. Wakerran. Irikoan. Balanquin. Paisian.”

Othieno growled and brought up his weapon, scanning the corners as if he expected to see someone materialize. Bauwerji stooped to pick up the rock she had dropped. It was just heavy enough to weigh down her arm without making her strain.

“You won’t be able to see her, let alone shoot her. She just needed a few nanoids stuck on the back of Othieno’s uniform collar. Don’t blame him. There’s no way he could have known she was there. But she’s been relaying this whole conversation back to the main vessel. By now they’ve probably sent your ship’s identification information to... oh, any ship flying. But I know this isn’t just your plan, whatever the plan actually is. You’re working with Nyree Vacik. You left cities standing if he had business ventures there.”

The Socigines dove toward one of the consoles, presumably to call for backup. Bauwerji hurled the stone at the woman’s head. She turned toward Othieno before the projectile made contact, but she heard the alien woman cry out as it impacted her skull. Othieno swung his weapon toward her when she was already close enough to snatch it away from him. One of his fingers caught on the grip and she heard the bone break. She kicked him in the stomach, hurting him as she put some distance between them, and ran to the nearest console.

“Authorization cyiaia,” she said. “Lock down this section of the ship. No one enters or leaves, and no communications in or out.”

The computer chimed its acknowledgement as the Socigines got back on her feet. She was spouting gibberish in her own language, bleeding from a jagged cut over her left ear. Her eyes had turned the color of a desert sunset and seemed to flare from within as she bared her teeth in a wide smile.

“That’s a threat, right?” Bauwerji aimed her gun at the alien’s face. “Believe me, it’s not quite as effective on my kind. Keep smiling, _ki’menthahl I’gien_.”

“Do you believe I will hesitate to kill you?” She touched the side of her face, the pale blood smearing onto her fingers. “You have no recourse.”

Bauwerji shrugged. “I have some recourse. Othieno, are you still conscious?”

He growled, sitting on his knees with muscles tensed in preparation to launch himself at her. “I will disembowel you.”

“Why? We’re allies right now.”

He laughed.

“I’m serious. You failed her and let me onto her ship. You’re the reason this is happening. So if she deals with me, what makes you think she’ll keep you around?”

“If I take care of you, she’ll give me a chance to fix things.”

Bauwerji scoffed without taking her eyes off her enemy. “She strikes you as the reasonable sort, ai? Wanna take a chance with her or with me? I can take you to the Paisian vessel, get you back home. Far as I know you haven’t done anything worth arresting you for. Well... petty black marketing, but I’m willing to overlook that in exchange for your cooperation.”

“I... you’re... it...” He looked between Bauwerji and the Socigines. 

“She’s taking advantage of you,” the alien woman hissed.

Bauwerji said, “Of course I am. You’re Irikoan. You work with whoever is giving the best deal. The deal I’m offering is that you get to go home. Once you’re there, hey, hop a ship and get back to whatever you’re doing. Settle down and start farming. The deal she’s offering... g’hin, I don’t know what her eye colors mean, but they can’t be anything good. You know her better than I do.”

“Othieno... don’t listen to her.”

“What do I have to do?”

Bauwerji said, “Subdue her. Tie her up. Let me dig through her files a bit. We’re still in orbit, so I figure I have some friends within spitting distance. The Paisian swarm on your clothes is probably still transmitting. If so... Captain Valdis, would you be so kind as to contact the _Sastruga_ for a ride?”

Othieno listened to the air. “I... I don’t hear anything.”

“You wouldn’t,” Bauwerji said. “We’ll know soon enough if the message got through. Now, live up to your side of the bargain and I’ll see about giving you a ride.”

Othieno turned on the Socigines, and she shifted her focus to him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He pounced, and the woman swung her hand out to intercept. He twisted in the air and avoided her talons, hitting her chest with the broad curve of his shoulder. They both went down, hitting the smooth floor and sliding a few feet as they began grappling. Bauwerji turned back to the console she’d used to lockdown the command deck and looked over the controls. The Wakerran might be an unknown race, but they were using a very common ship. She accessed the logs and recorded where the ship had been, where it had come from, and everything they’d done while they were at each stop.

“Looks like your ship is going to implicate you in two mass murders. Arresting you will be an unfortunate first contact, but I suppose there could be worse.” She ejected the file and slipped it into her pocket before she went into the saved communications bank. “Let us see if we can implicate Vacik in the attacks as well.”

Othieno shrieked as something snapped like dry kindling. Bauwerji twisted and dropped down at the last possible instant, narrowly avoiding the Socigines’ swing. She felt the wind of it passing over her head and threw her weight against the other woman’s waist. The Socigines went down, and Bauwerji did her best to avoid the swinging limbs.

“I must tell you, Othieno, I am sincerely questioning our partnership.”

“She broke my arm!”

The Socigines stabbed Bauwerji in the back with one of her talons, twisting it in the soft meat just above her hip. Bauwerji bared her teeth against the pain and rested her forearm against the alien’s throat. Pockets opened in the Socigines’ cheeks, billowing as air moved passed them.

“Oh, _mi’I’tajo’k_ ,” Bauwerji cursed. 

She was rapidly cycling through her options when they were both hurled across the floor without warning. Bauwerji tumbled off the Socigines, who rolled ball over sticks before slamming into the forward wall. Othieno was clinging to one of the consoles, his snapped arm cradled to his side. 

“Inertial dampers,” he said, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Scroll them down, scroll them back up. Crew is probably a little bumped up.”

Bauwerji said, “Partnership is once again in play.” She got up, ignoring the pain in her side where the Socigines had stabbed her. She crossed the room as the other woman was just starting to get to her feet. One well-placed boot to her head caused her to fall back down, her arms going limp as she lost consciousness. Bauwerji knelt beside her and used the fabric of her shawl to tightly bind her arms and legs. As soon as that was done, she got to her feet and checked her wound.

“Othieno, aim the sensors behind the moon. Do you see any ships back there?”

He groaned and tapped the screen. “Two. One is Paisian. The other... ah... unknown. I assume you know them?”

“Signal them the all-clear.”

A voice seemed to come from nowhere: “That will be unnecessary, Officer Crow. I have been monitoring the situation and the _Adedoja_ is prepared to come to your aid. Has the vessel been secured?”

“The command deck is secured,” she said. “The crew, not so much. A few dozen Irikoan who hired themselves out. I think you can convince them to surrender once they see the tide has turned. I have proof that this is the vessel that destroyed Taplinid and Pahleis.”

“Fantastic news, Officer. We are moving to intercept you now.”

“Okay. Oh, and Dr. Littlefoot is still on the surface. If you could pick hir up and get hir onboard, I... I am... in need of her services.” She looked down at the blood smeared over the back of her trousers as she fought off another wave of lightheadedness.

Valdis said, “Ze will be there as soon as we can get hir on a ship.”

Bauwerji thanked her and limped toward the couch where the Socigines had been lounging when Othieno delivered her. She dropped heavily onto the cushions and looked at her reluctant partner. 

“So. How does it feel to be on the winning side?”

He looked at her. “I’ll tell you my answer when it begins to feel as if we are winning.”

Bauwerji chuckled, then grabbed at her side with a grunt of pain. All she could do was wait for the Paisian crew and her Aphelion officers to arrive and take care of the other Irikoan mercenaries outside. If she could spend that time without moving, speaking, or breathing too deeply, she had a feeling she would survive her wound. She only hoped they would move with expediency, because the pain was definitely getting worse with each passing second.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Fourteen**  
Min Paget knew she was sitting on the story of a lifetime, but the only thing that truly registered was Bauwerji Crow’s bloody uniform dripping onto the pristine floors of the Paisian ship as the Aphelion officers brought her aboard. She’d been at the airlock hoping for an opportunity to speak with someone who might confirm what she’d heard on the bridge. She found a soldier walking by himself and hurried to catch up with him. He recognized her as she approached but didn’t slow down. She pushed a hand through her dark hair and gave him a friendly smile.

“Min Paget, from--”

“I know what you’re from. Sorry, I’m busy.”

Min fell into step beside him. “I heard it was hectic over there. I also heard the commander of the ship wasn’t Irikoan. She was a race no one has ever encountered before. Is that true?”

“I’m not allowed to say, ma’am.”

She grimaced her frustration and looked for anyone who seemed as if they might have looser lips. That was when she spotted the medical transport, its clear plastic shell closed around an unconscious woman. It wasn’t until she got closer that she saw it was Bauwerji. Her scoop forgotten, she followed the medical team out of the airlock. No one bothered stopping her on the way to the infirmary; security was far too focused on the prisoners they were bringing back from the other vessel. Dr. Littlefoot had been brought aboard from the planet’s surface, and ze was quickly prepping the examination room when they arrived.

“I want anyone who isn’t a physic to get out of this room now. Those of you who are, scrub up. Is there another Balanquin on board?”

Min had taken the initiative to look at both ships’ manifestos and knew there wasn’t. “The engineer on the _Sastruga_ is Balanquin.”

“Someone get that engineer over here. Officer Crow is going to need a transfusion, and it needs to be auth.”

That startled Min into running to the nearest ship-to-ship. Most surgeries used synthetic blood, since it was easy to produce and cut down on the problems usually associated with finding a donor. Using authentic meant that Dr. Littlefoot didn’t think Bauwerji’s body would be able to rewrite the synth into real blood. And that, of course, meant the situation was incredibly dire. She contacted the smuggler’s ship and requested the engineer’s presence on the _Adedoja_. Captain Drayton promised Aryana would be on the next shuttle.

Min returned to the infirmary and watched from behind a wall of glass as the doctor and hir team cut away the clothes Bauwerji had worn to the surface. The blood had come from a horrible wound on her side, just above the flare of her hip. She was transfixed by the procedure, the ballet of doctor and nurse to repair the damage done by the unknown alien. She didn’t know how much time had passed before the Balanquin engineer was brought in, but she knew it didn’t feel like long enough to have traveled from one ship to the other.

She turned and saw Captain Drayton standing behind her. There was real fear in the Acapsian woman’s eyes, and she stood well away from the glass as if afraid to get a clear view of what was happening on the other side.

“Cicerone, isn’t it?”

The captain blinked and shifted her gaze. “I wasn’t hearing you. What did you say?”

“Your name is Cicerone?”

“Cicero,” she muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the glass again. “How long could this possibly take?”

Min knew the question was rhetorical, so she didn’t respond out loud. But if the alien who did it was indeed unknown, there were all sorts of things Dr. Littlefoot needed to examine before the wound could be closed. 

“I heard a rumor that the alien who did this was previously unknown.”

Min nodded. “I heard the same thing. No confirmation yet.” She nodded at the surgery. “But I can’t think of anyone who could do that with their finger. You?”

Cicero shook her head. 

“You two have a thing?”

“No,” Cicero said. “Not that I’d admit if we did to a journalist. I know who you are, Miss Paget.”

Min said, “Right now I’m just a person on a ship. A rock worth killing thousands of people over, an alien race no one has ever seen before, one of the toughest bitches I’ve ever seen is lying there bleeding on the table. I’m scared shitless.” Cicero looked at her quizzically. “Oh. It means, uh... it means that I’m so frightened I’m losing control of my bodily functions. It’s an idiom. Not literal.”

“Oh. I see.” 

In order to distract herself from the horror she was witnessing, she turned to face Cicero. “Have you discussed the next phase of the plan? There’s no point of splitting up since the ship responsible for destroying those cities has been captured.”

Cicero said, “The captain of this vessel wasn’t working on her own. Nyree Vacik was involved somehow. Hopefully she’ll disclose what we need to know during interrogation.”

“Do you think she’ll turn on whoever hired her?”

“It’s irrelevant. The Acapsian have ways of interrogating that don’t require her cooperation. We’ll get what we need to know. It’s just a matter of time.”

That was intriguing, but Cicero’s voice had become increasingly monotone as she watched Littlefoot. Her mind was obviously no longer on the conversation, and Min wasn’t going to press while she was distracted. 

“Would you like me to bring you something? I think the Paisian have a cellaret aboard. I can see if they have an Acapsian _omakindu_.”

“No, uh... see if they have anything Balanquin. _Qijui_.”

“Strong stuff,” Min said, “but I’ll see if they have it.”

Cicero said, “If there’s not any aboard, don’t let them synthesize it. It always comes out tasting like shit.” She managed a small grin. “An idiom. Not literal.”

“Right.” Min put her hand on Cicero’s shoulder before she left in search of the alcohol.

#

Bauwerji woke to the tune of _Au Baran Tarbuj’qul_ , the old lullaby from the peaceful times. It didn’t remind her of being tucked in by her mother or calm nights in the bosom of family, but rather the cold nights in the desert when someone started singing it on watch. Ironic that they only sang it to remember the old times but in doing so ensured that it would always bring to mind the worst times. As she returned to consciousness she was aware of both worlds, the unconscious world of memory and the real world. Her side hurt, burned, and coming out of the fog made the pain sharper. 

She opened her eyes and tried to move her hand to touch the wound, but it was tethered by a web of tubes. She looked down and saw fluids being fed into the back of her hand. One large tube was feeding directly into the fat vein that ran up the middle of her arm. It was the “high-traffic” vein that supplied her heart and other major organs.

Bauwerji tracked the hose off the edge of the table. It dipped toward the floor but then rose to a second bed, a second carnelian arm. Aryana Barrien was facing the ceiling, her untapped arm behind her head. She was the one singing, her eyes half-lidded as if she was about to fall asleep. Bauwerji closed her eyes and rocked her head to the melody. 

“ _Aus’jia b’ohoj q’we q’we  
Wa djon’dai se se seea’z haj  
haj   
ek’ji haj  
haj ze’heer ja’a a te  
Thawhi koreeh z’  
Haj  
ek’ji haj  
Au baran tarbuj’qul  
Au baran tarbuj’qul  
B’jora ldinah  
Au baran tarbuj’qul._”

In the middle of their duet, Aryana turned her head to see Bauwerji. When the song trailed off, Bauwerji gestured at the tube with her free hand. “Thank you.”

“It is an honor to have my blood run through veins such as yours. You stayed. You fought for our planet and spilled your blood protecting it. I ran away. I can never change that, and given the opportunity I’m not sure I would be brave enough to make a different decision. A little lightheadedness now is a small price to pay. Hardly brave, but it gives you a chance to continue being yourself.”

Bauwerji smiled and let her eyes drift shut. 

“The Decade at the Battlements,” Aryana said. “That’s what we called it. The Catarahh war. Just a decade. We drew the line because we thought the war was over when they were driven away.”

Bauwerji said, “We all thought so.”

“Mm. Bauwerji?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t believe in the mumbo-jumbo about sharing blood.”

Bauwerji grinned, either the drugs or her weakness making the revelation more amusing than it should have been. “So you don’t own me?”

Aryana chuckled. “No. But I might wish to lease you once in a while.”

“Find me some night... I’ll make it sweet for you.”

“It doesn’t have to be overly sweet.”

“Ah...”

Aryana sighed as well and rolled her head back, starting the lullaby over from the first verse. Bauwerji tried to sing along with her, but the drugs kicked in and sent her back to dreams.

#

When Cordwainer finished surgery, ze scrubbed down and changed into hir uniform. There was really no sense in transferring back to the _Sastruga_ since both ships were returning to the Quay, so ze told the med center staff to keep hir briefed, then went to find the quarters Jocia had been assigned about the large Paisian vessel. Ze found Jocia in the midst of transforming the new space into something that would be comfortable for both of them. Jocia looked up and her eyes brightened when she saw her lover.

“You are safe,” she said, moving to embrace hir.

Cordwainer held up hir hands. “Stop! Don’t touch me. I’m tarnished.” Jocia stopped just before making contact. “I was in that horrible place, and then I performed surgery on another species.”

“Your religion has no restrictions for those things.”

“Yours does,” Cordwainer said. “If you touched me, you would have to do penance and a ritualistic bath. Since you don’t have your supplies, you would be unclean for the entire trip back to the station. Just give me a few minutes to clean myself.”

Jocia smiled. “Thank you, Cord.”

“I’m being selfish,” ze said as she carefully stepped around Jocia. “I don’t think I could go that long without touching you.”

They went into the bathroom. Jocia remained in the doorway and watched Cordwainer undress. Ze filled the basin with water and knelt in front of it, removing a sponge from Jocia’s travel pack. For this type of washing, the sponge would have to be discarded when ze was finished. The Ladronis were extremely strict about contamination. Cordwainer found it odd that they could make love, but surgery was a step too far. Blood and organs were hardly the same as the fluids produced by sex, but Jocia had licked the sweat from hir chest, had ejaculated hir and swallowed. If the blood was produced by violence, then maybe ze could understand, but ze had been working to save a life. 

Still, ze wasn’t going to debate the logic behind the belief. It was Jocia’s religion and ze was going to respect that. 

“How did the surgery go?”

“Complicated.” Ze wet down hir arms, running the sponge all the way up to the shoulder and then across hir chest. “I had to cut away some necrotic tissue around the entry wound. I don’t know if the finger was coated with something or if that’s just how Balanquin anatomy reacts to... these whatever that woman is. Wakerran, I think was what they said.”

Jocia shook her head. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”

“I’ll take your word for it over mine. Valdis seems to believe the woman is a whole new species. That could go either way. The last first contact we had was with the Cetidroi.”

“Mm.” 

“I’ve warned the security forces about the potential for damage, and they’re taking precautions with the Wakerran prisoner’s hands.”

Jocia came into the room as Cordwainer began lathering soap onto hir hands. She stood over Cordwainer and took the detachable faucet from the sink. She tested the temperature on her own hand, then gently touched Cordwainer’s head to indicate ze should lean forward. She turned the spray to gentle and began washing hir hair. Jocia threaded the ashy-colored strands through her fingers and massaged Cordwainer’s scalp.

Cordwainer’s neck went limp from Jocia’s touch. Hir voice took on a dreamy quality. “The man with the stone, the real one, is still out there. Valdis seemed to believe the Wakerran woman was just a hired gun for Vacik. He’ll keep looking. Keep killing.”

“We’ll find him,” Jocia said. “Look how quickly we found the ship.”

Cordwainer chuckled. “This ship was tearing through the known universe leaving charred cities in its wake. Finding one man will be infinitely more difficult.”

Jocia said, “I don’t know. You and I managed to find one another against all odds.”

Cordwainer held hir hand up, and Jocia linked their fingers together. Cordwainer kissed hir lover’s fingers, then turned to look up at her.

“It’s never far from my mind that if we’d both been born in a different age... if I was the product of a Human race that never got further than Mars, or if you weren’t the first Ladronis to explore farther into the universe, our paths would never have crossed. The long path of two great races conspired for us to meet, and I will be forever grateful to them both.”

Jocia bent down and pressed a kiss to Cordwainer’s forehead. “Let’s finish your bath so you can get some much-needed rest before we return to the Quay.”

“Rest?” Cordwainer asked, moving hir lips to Jocia’s wrist.

Jocia grinned. “Well... perhaps some kalistahma, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“With you? Always.”

Ze turned back to the sink and let Jocia douse hir with the water. For the moment their work was done. Admiral Reshef would assign someone to continue seeking the thief with the stone, and Cordwainer would only be required if there was another injury. For the time being ze only had to worry about being true to Jocia’s religion and holding her when she slept. Ze felt like a coward since Bauwerji was the one who had been in any true danger, but ze’d definitely had enough excitement for one mission. Ze was more than ready to go home.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Fifteen**  
Captain Valdis and Admiral Reshef agreed that it made infinitely more sense to keep the Wakerran woman on the Paisian vessel rather than attempt a transfer onto the station. When they arrived, Dr. Littlefoot had her team move Bauwerji to the med center despite the XO’s insistence that she didn’t need to be hospitalized. Littlefoot insisted that she needed a few hours of observation to make sure there wasn’t an unexpected infection from the unknown species. Bauwerji finally relented, but she looked furious when she was loaded off the ship and carried to the med center on a biostroller.

Admiral Reshef also declared that Captains Dreyton and Valdis would be unofficially deputized until the matter was concluded. Cicero asked permission to immediately depart the station. “We may have found the killers, but the stone is still at large. Whoever is holding it is immensely dangerous. I’m the only person who has seen him, and I know what rocks would be best to look under.”

“Of course. Keep in contac so we know where you are. I’ll keep you apprised of anything we learn from this... Wakerran. What did you say she called herself?”

Valdis said, “The Socigines.”

“Right. Captain Valdis, if you’re willing to miss out on the interrogation, I have an assignment for your ship as well.”

“I am your servant.”

“The _Sastruga_ engineer’s theory about Nyree Vacik seems to have held water. Track him down and see if you can tie him to this in any way. I don’t want him to hire someone else when he discovers this Wakerran woman has been captured.”

Valdis bowed her head to the Admiral. “I can begin preparing the vessel for departure, and we can leave after you’ve spoken with the prisoner.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

The Paisian left, and Cicero said, “I should go as well. We shouldn’t waste any more time finding this man and his _t’piqen_ stone.”

“I would have thought you’d stick around to see Bauwerji.”

Cicero said, “I would really like to. I’d like to sit up in her hospital room and watch her sleep, hold her hand, be there when she wakes up... and that’s why I’m leaving.”

Reshef smiled wryly. “There are worse things in life than ending up in a happy, fulfilling relationship.”

“There are worse things in life than having one of your legs amputated. That doesn’t mean I’m willing to let it happen if I can avoid it.” She smiled and touched her brow in a sloppy approximation of a salute. Acapsian people didn’t salute, but members of every race had picked it up when dealing with Admiral Reshef. She didn’t know how much of it was actual respect and how much was just simple mimicry, but she always returned the gesture. 

When she was alone, Indira checked to see if Earth had sent any notifications in response to her queries. Generally the Quay had the first and last word when it came to contact with a new species. Telling her superiors on Earth was more of a courtesy than anything else. Their official stance was almost always wariness to the point of defensiveness. She shuddered to think of what might have happened if they greeted the Paisian with a volley of weapon fire. At the time the Quay had been a fraction of its current size and strength. It would have been like a tribesman throwing a spear at a jet. In this case the jet, if it even noticed, would pause just long enough to smash the pest before moving on. Humanity would have been forced to retreat back to their tiny prison in the center of an otherwise desolate system. Extending a hand of friendship had pulled them out into the galaxy at large, for better or for worse.

She fastened her weapon to her hip, more so the prisoner could see it rather than with any intention of actually using it, and left her office. While they dealt with the crisis at hand, the rest of the Quay was still business-as-usual. New ships were arriving at all times of day, from Pelorum and Ladrona and Earth. A Karezza troop transport was due in three days. If the matter wasn’t settled by then she would officially request their assistance. The beauty of the Aphelion Project meant that every race was there to support the others. Humans might not exactly pay back everything they received, but they did what they were capable of. She hoped that continued to be enough.

Bauwerji and Valdis had both described the alien to her, but Reshef knew nothing would compare to actually seeing the woman in the flesh. By the time she began her service aboard the Quay they’d already met all their allies. She’d either seen photographs, videos, or Sensuite movies about all of them. She’d both fucked and been fucked by an Acapsian in the Sensuite before she ever met one in person. This was a true first contact for her, and it was antagonistic. She couldn’t risk screwing it up and causing another Cetidroi war.

A swarm of nanoids from Valdis was waiting at the airlock to escort her to the holding cell. The swarm hovered at eye level, a mass just slightly bigger than Indira’s fist. She knew that the swarm was autonomous but still connected to the main entity. She knew that she should treat the swarm as if it was Valdis, since it essentially was, but it still felt like talking with a cloud of gnats. 

When they arrived at the cell, Valdis’ swarm dispersed with a promise that she would be within earshot if Indira required assistance. Guards were also posted just outside the room. Indira thanked them and secured the door. Even if the Socigines managed to get out of her cell, she wouldn’t be able to escape to the ship at large before the guards were aware of her escape. Secure in the knowledge that she would be the only one at risk, Indira walked forward and stood in front of the cell.

The Socigines was lying on the floor, her arms out to either side at a forty-five degree angle to her body. She had stripped out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the cot provided for her. She had also let down her hair, which spread out around her head like a pool of spilled ink. Indira watched for a moment to see if the alien would acknowledge her presence, the two of them engaged in a battle of silent wills. Indira looked at the creature’s hands, the talon that had nearly killed Bauwerji looking like a spike driven into the side of the woman’s palm.

“So. You’re a Wakerran.”

The Socigines lifted her head and immediately lowered it to the floor again. “A Human. How dull.”

“Dull?”

“Plain, ordinary, unvaried.”

Indira said, “I am Indian, female, Jain, xenosexual...”

“Labels you give yourself to draw lines between yourselves. Artificial categorization. Meaningless to anyone outside of your own world. Believe me, from the outside looking in, you are as bland as you can be.”

Indira crossed her arms over her chest. “You seem to know a lot about us, but we know next to nothing about you.”

The Socigines smiled, still staring at the ceiling. “We like to know what we’re dealing with before we make our move. Humans know how lucky you are, right? Building this station precisely where the other races might find it convenient. The Paisian were the first ones to find you, so they decided to be friendly. But if it had been the Karezza? You would have been evicted with severe prejudice. You might have had the opportunity to be their little fucktoys like the Balanquin. Slaves on your own planet, bending over whenever one of your lords got horny. Of course, you said you were xenosexual. That idea might make you horny yourself.”

Indira glared. “You work for Nyree Vacik.”

“Like I said, we prefer to know who we’re dealing with before we announce ourselves. Vacik had funds. He has power and influence. That’s why we chose him for our mission. When the time comes, he’ll be as disposable as the rest of you.”

“I hate to break it to you, but if you’re the leader then the mission is pretty much over. We’re not letting you out of here. And the Paisian technology is pretty tough to beat.”

The Wakerran laughed. “The Paisian. Where do you think those clinks came from in the first place? They were discarded eons ago, left behind on a junk planet. They evolved a little, sure, but the people who created their technology were still out there. Still evolving. You might as well threaten me with a flint.”

Indira stepped closer. “You claim the Wakerran created the Paisian?”

“No. But we know who did.”

“How?”

“I was there,” the Socigines said. 

Indira raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “Eons ago, you say?”

The Socigines grinned, revealing sharpened teeth at the far sides of her jaw. “We were strong and we were brilliant, but that only meant we were aware of how vulnerable we would be against someone stronger and smarter. We took precautions to ensure our people would never truly die out. Contingencies. I was part of a group which slept while our first generation died out.”

“How did that happen?”

“War. Disease. The same thing that befalls every race eventually. Our population grew until a reckoning was required. Diseases to weed out the frail, war to decimate the strong, and soon only a handful were left alive. They eventually died out, and a signal was sent to wake up the next generation.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“The universe was built for our people. We are scholars and poets, we exist to give the universe meaning. We are joined as one.”

Indira laughed. “You’re cocky, too. You can talk yourself up as much as you want, but the truth is you’re still our prisoner. We picked you up practically as soon as we started looking. So you might want to check this self-adoration and face the reality.”

“You wish for reality? Very well. This is the reality of your situation, Admiral Reshef. Your people are a mold. Eons ago, our planet was destroyed by a cataclysm. Shards of it were sent shooting through this vast empty expanse, occasionally crossing paths with planet-sized objects. The base DNA of our people reacted to its new environment and evolved in accordance to wherever it had landed. That’s why every race you’ve encountered basically looks the same. Two eyes, two arms, two legs, bipedal. The rest goes down to environment, evolution, and other sundry things.

“You may have fooled yourselves into thinking you’re advanced. You managed to leave your individual planets and explore the general vicinity, but to use you’re nothing. Humans and Karezza and Ladronis. You’re just spores that weren’t dealt with in their early stages. You’re an infestation on this galaxy. You are mere cultures. When we find the stone, we will have the DNA required to rebuild our race from the ground up. We’ll have to speed through the first few stages of evolution, of course... we’ll take the opportunity to fine-tune a few things. But the Wakerran race will awaken and we will reclaim the universe as our birthright. And on that day, every race from Paisian to Human will be exterminated.”

Indira said, “You can try. But the fact is we found you on a shitty vessel using the rednecks of the galaxy as your army. There might have been a time when you ruled this place, but that time is so far removed we can’t even comprehend it. You’re a shadow, a remnant of something that should have been buried a long time ago. These ‘cultures,’ as you call us, won’t sit idly by as you rebuild your race. We’ll stop you before you’re strong enough to kill us.”

The Socigines chuckled. “Time will tell, Admiral Reshef.”

“Yes. It will. You may discover we’ve evolved in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The Paisian can get inside your head in all sorts of unpleasant ways. And if they fail, the Karezza have interrogation methods that make the rest of us queasy just contemplating. You may have big brains and a great society, but if you come barreling in with genocide in mind, we’re going to have a few things to say about that. I think the Wakerran people are in for a very painful lesson in humility.”

“We shall soon see, Admiral.”

Indira snorted derisively and turned to leave, but the Socigines spoke again.

“The time will come, Admiral Reshef. The day is approaching when you will look out from the windows of your Quay to see the expanse is full of Wakerran warships. Don’t expect mercy when that day arrives.”

“Same to you, Socigines. Make sure your people know we’re not going down without a fight.” She knocked to be let out of the room. “Your plan still relies on getting that rock. All we have to do is get it first, and the war will be over before it begins.”

“Time will tell,” the Socigines said. 

“Time,” Indira agreed. “Yes. Tick-tock, Wakerran. Tick-tock.”

The Socigines chuckled quietly and retreated into her cell as Indira left the room. “Tick-tock,” the woman muttered under her breath as she settled on the floor again. “Tick-tock... tick... tock...”


End file.
